Chosen
by dragonwrath7
Summary: A young fan of the Harry Potter books has a strange dream and wakes up in a spider-filled cupboard beneath stairs...
1. Prologue

**Chosen - a Harry Potter fanfic**

By Anton B. Ingibjartsson, AKA dragonwrath7

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. I am not JK Rowling.

This story was partly influenced and inspired by the fanfic _In The Words Of Ginevra Molly Potter_, by _TheJealousOne_.

THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS TO ALL THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THEM AND DON'T WANT THE EXPERIENCE RUINED FOR YOU, REFRAIN FROM READING FURTHER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

**THE FOLLOWING CHANGES HAVE BEEN MADE TO THE STORY:**

-Added a prologue

-Merged "Ch.1: Voices" with "Ch.2: Playing Potter" to create the new Ch.1: Living the Dream.

-All other chapters had their number reduced by 1 to compensate.

-Added a little 'meat' to several chapters.

**Prologue**

A man awoke in a peculiar place, surrounded by mist. As he wondered where he was, the mist receded, revealing what was unmistakably an airport. He was not sure he understood, but he was suddenly aware that he was not alone. Three more people arrived next to him. One of them was his wife. Suddenly, he was overtaken by the feeling that they had to board a plane. Just as he was about to mention this to his wife, he heard the other two mumbling to each other. Oddly, one of them mentioned a ship and the other said something about a bus. He ignored this and told his wife they had better get on the plane. But she told him she couldn't leave yet, that she had something to do.

"They need my help," she said, over and over. "They're in pain."

And then someone else arrived. Someone he had never seen before. The stranger had an aura of fear around him, and he wore a black cloak and hood. This person told his wife that if she truly wished to help, there was one person she could turn to, but it would take some time to reach him. She didn't care. She'd do anything to help them.

And so it began...

**Author's Notes:**

It's short, but it's quite enough. First-time readers should note that this story's protagonist does not appear in the prologue.


	2. Chapter 1: Living The Dream

**Chosen - a Harry Potter fanfic**

By Anton B. Ingibjartsson, AKA dragonwrath7

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. I am not JK Rowling.

This story was partly influenced and inspired by the fanfic _In The Words Of Ginevra Molly Potter_, by _TheJealousOne_.

THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS TO ALL THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THEM AND DON'T WANT THE EXPERIENCE RUINED FOR YOU, REFRAIN FROM READING FURTHER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

**Chapter One****: Living the Dream**

This is the story of Joanne Rowling's greatest fan.

He had just finished reading the last chapter of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ when it first happened. He heard a voice. It was a woman's voice, and it was screaming. Startled, he dropped the book and looked around, but there was no one else in the room. Eventually, he decided he must simply have dozed off and had a bad dream. He had, after all, been awake all night reading. He looked at his watch and saw that it was almost nine in the morning. Not too keen on letting his foster parents know he hadn't slept, he decided to get out of bed and have some breakfast and just go to bed early tonight. He got up and looked at a photo that stood on his table. He didn't know why he kept that picture, it only pained him to look at it. The picture showed his parents, who had died in a car crash three years ago. He lived in foster care now. His foster parents weren't bad people, but they were ignorant and didn't understand him at all. They had a son who was a few years older than him and who constantly picked on him. If only he'd had some living relatives to take him in...

It was as he sat down with his adoptive family to eat breakfast that it happened again. This time it was a man's voice, but it sounded nothing like any man he had ever heard. The voice laughed hysterically, and then spoke. He had the feeling the man was speaking to him.

"And now... you will die, and the world will know I cannot be vanquished."

Green light flashed before him, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, everything was normal. No green light and no voice, but strangest of all, the family, who sat all around him, hadn't noticed a thing. Once again, he simply decided he must just be tired.

He sat in the living room the whole day playing video games. His foster mother asked him to stop playing and spend some time outside with his friends. Friends? He almost laughed. He didn't have any friends. The kids she was referring to were the school bullies, who liked to spend the summer picking on him. They'd even had the nerve to come over and ask for him several times. She asked him again to quit, but he ignored her and kept playing.

The bell rang. His foster mother asked him to get the door, but he didn't even look up from the screen. She sighed and went to answer the door herself. After about a minute, she returned with a strange smile on her face. He looked up, quite surprised by her expression.

"There's a pretty girl asking for you."

"What?" he said, and went a little red. This was one thing he had not expected. He stood up and went to the door.

There was a girl there alright, but not any girl he had been expecting.

"_What are you doing here?_" he whispered, making sure that nobody was watching or listening.

"I- I just..."

She went all red. This was why he didn't want her here. It was just his bad luck that he got stuck with this girl as his science partner. Since it was Saturday, he'd been hoping to get a break from her. He knew she had a big crush on him, and it was quite embarrassing under the best of circumstances, but he wasn't the least bit interested.

"Y-you forgot your science books at school," she finally managed to tell him.

"Oh," he said, and took the books from her. "Thanks."

There was an embarrassing silence. He was about to say goodbye and close the door, but then he saw the strange look on her face. She wasn't looking at him, rather she seemed to be looking through him. She had a sad expression on her face. This was the reason he hadn't had the heart to tell her that he wasn't interested. She was zoning out – something which seemed to happen to her all the time, ever since the accident which had killed his parents. Her parents had been in the other car...

As soon as she seemed to have recovered, he said goodbye and closed the door. He felt bad for her, he really did. If it weren't for her stupid crush on him he would gladly consider her a friend. Sure she was pretty, but she was also constantly sad, and he felt bad enough himself. If he was to have a girlfriend, he would need a cheerful one; someone who could keep his spirits up, not someone who just dragged him further down.

"Well well well," said his 'brother' from behind him. "_Somebody_ has a girlfriend."

He sighed. _And people wonder why I don't like my so-called family_.

That night after dinner, he was exhausted and more than ready to call it a night. He went straight to his room without even brushing his teeth. He saw his book still lying on the bed and picked it up. As he looked at the front cover, he again heard voices. This time there were two of them, although the first sounded more like a howling dog than a person. The second voice belonged to a woman.

"Shh! You'll wake the Muggles!"

Muggles... where had he heard that before? He racked his brain, knowing this was something he should know, but he was too tired to think clearly. He put the book back in the shelf next to the other six. He owned every book in the Harry Potter series and had read most of them more than twice. His vision blurred... he barely had the strength to remain standing. He just made it to the bed before the remainder of his strength vanished and he fell onto the mattress. As his senses left him, he thought he heard someone whisper.

"Good luck, Harry."

And then he was asleep. He had a peculiar dream where he stood atop a mountain. Looking down, he saw a great castle next to a huge forest and a lake. A short distance from the castle there was a stadium of some sort, and in the castle grounds he saw a small wooden cabin. This all seemed very familiar somehow, but he wasn't sure why. He could hear crying. At first he dismissed it as another one of those voices he kept hearing and wondered how he could have dozed off now that he didn't feel the least bit tired. Then he realized he was already asleep and dreaming. So who was crying? He looked around and saw a woman looking up at the clouds.

"They're in pain! Please, help them!"

As he came closer, he got a better view of her face, but couldn't believe what he was seeing. The woman... She looked so much like...

"Mum?"

She looked at him, still crying, and then turned back to the skies. Yes, it was definitely his mother. After a few seconds of teary silence, she repeated her words.

"They're in pain. Please, help them."

There was thunder in the air. He looked up, trying to see what she was staring at. A bolt of lightning struck him in the forehead.

He jerked awake, but calmed down when he realized it had been a dream. He let himself fall back onto the pillow, which caused a big question mark to appear in the back of his mind as a part of him realized he had fallen asleep on his stomach with no pillow beneath him. He dismissed the thought for now and, with his right hand, reached up to his forehead where the lightning had hit him.

He sat up in shock. There was a large, thin, odd-shaped scar on his forehead that certainly hadn't been there when he went to sleep.

After a shock like that, it took him a while to realize he wasn't at home in his bed, but in an unfamiliar bed inside a cupboard that apparently lay beneath some stairs. His vision was also strangely blurred, which perhaps explained why his body looked smaller than normal. Looking around, he found a pair of glasses next to the bed and put them on, which repaired his vision problem instantly. He jumped in fright when he saw that a spider was crawling up the bed near his feet. He had always been terrified of spiders. Then someone rapped loudly on the door and a shrill female voice could be heard just outside.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

The woman rapped on the door again and repeated her demand that he get up, before he heard her walk away and apparently start cooking something. He got up, avoiding the spider as best he could, and exited the cupboard cautiously before he realized he was only wearing his underwear. Barely a second passed before he corrected himself; this was _someone else's_ underwear. Utterly confused, he went back inside the cupboard and, keeping an eye on the spider, started putting on some clothes he found on the floor. The woman came back to the cupboard.

"Are you up yet?"

"Err- Almost," he replied, though he wasn't even sure who the woman was.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."

_Duddy's birthday?_ No. It _couldn't_ be!

As soon as she'd gone, he opened the door and looked into the mirror on the wall opposite. Nothing could have prepared him for the shock he now experienced. He pinched himself in several places, hard. _I'm awake! I can't be awake! This can't be!_

In the mirror, exactly opposite him, stood a ten years old Harry Potter.

He was still in shock when he entered the kitchen. It did indeed look exactly as he had imagined the Dursleys' home. Everything was spotlessly clean; no doubt the work of Mrs. Dursley. He walked over to the stove and tended the bacon, afraid of getting on the wrong side of that woman. After all, Harry Potter might be a wizard, but he certainly wasn't.

As he turned the bacon, he heard Mr. Dursley come in and make some comment about his hair, but he wasn't really paying attention. His thoughts were too conflicted for him to pay attention to much of anything, in fact.

_I'm Harry Potter!_

_No, you're not! There has to be a rational explanation for all this!_

_Like what? I'm not asleep. This isn't a dream._

_Maybe not, but... Listen to yourself. You're having an argument inside your head._

_Didn't Harry have one of these in book six?_

_Yeah, but at least that one made some sense. His inner friend was struggling with his inner lover._

_Point taken. So now what?_

_If this is real, there has to be a reason why it's happening._

_Mum... In that dream, I saw my mum. What did she say?_

_"They're in pain! Please, help them!"_

_ Hey! Mum's voice doesn't sound like that!_

_No, it doesn't, but you can't honestly expect me__ to copy your mother's voice. _

_What? Anyway, maybe that's the reason. I know most of Harry's story by heart._

_So?_

_So maybe I'm supposed to save Harry from all the bad stuff that happens to him!_

_And if you're wrong?_

_I'm not. I'm sure of it. Mum sent me here to help Harry and that's what I'm gonna do._

_Then go do it! Good luck._

_Coming from me, that means a lot._

_Speak for myself._

Realizing his imagined conversation had become flat out ridiculous, he turned his attention back to the bacon, which was starting to burn. In a slight panic, he tried what he could to save it, and managed to keep it from burning any more. He'd just have to cross his fingers and hope the Dursleys didn't notice. By the time Dudley and Mrs. Dursley came into the kitchen, he'd started frying eggs. He had to pour all his concentration into the food, as he had never cooked before in his life and had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but he remembered Harry doing this in the book and tried as he could not to mess it up.

As he tried to fit the plates with bacon and eggs on the present-laden table, he took a closer look at the Dursleys. Dudley was easy to recognize with his round body, a snout for a nose and blonde hair. He stood out like a nun at a line-up. Next was Mr. Dursley with his overlarge moustache and nonexistent neck. His appearance was no doubt exactly how Dudley would look when he grew up, assuming he went on a heavy diet. Mrs. Dursley, on the other hand, was very thin and had an even longer neck than he had imagined.

Dudley was apparently counting the presents, which apparently was very hard work, judging from the face he was making.

"Thirty-six. That's two less than last year."

As the conversation played out, he had a hard time preventing himself from laughing. _Thirty-six? That's six times as many presents as I get on my birthday and at Christmas combined._

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't stop himself from grinning, and Mrs. Dursley noticed.

"What are you smiling about?"

His smile vanished instantly.

"Err- Nothing, Mrs. Dursley."

Everyone froze. It took him a few seconds to realize the mistake he had made, during which time seemed to stand still.

"Sorry, Aunt Petunia. I... I'm just..."

_Just what? Having an out-of-body experience?_

"...just trying to be polite on my cousin's birthday."

"Well, stop being polite. It doesn't suit you."

"Right. Sorry, Aunt Petunia."

He relaxed a bit, realizing she had accepted his lame excuse. Mr. Dursley looked at him suspiciously.

"You're getting weirder with each passing day, boy. I don't want any funny business on Dudley's birthday."

"Don't worry, Uncle Vernon. I haven't learned any magic yet."

Everyone froze again. This time he instantly realized his mistake and that there were no plausible excuses he could make to cover it up.

"I'm kidding!"

Uncle Vernon looked like he was about to explode.

"There's NO SUCH THING as MAGIC!"

"No, of course not! I was just joking."

But it was too late. It looked like Uncle Vernon had reached his boiling point and if he started now, he'd probably keep yelling at him for the next three hours.

"Err- I'll just go to my cupboard now."

Then he ran like a scared little rabbit to avoid the explosion, literally jumped into the cupboard and closed the door behind him. Sure, the cupboard remained infested with spiders, but they were the lesser of two evils.

The phone rang. He remembered this part from the book and wondered if it would turn out differently because of his mistakes. As it turned out, Aunt Petunia was able to shake off her shock and answer the phone. Even so, he highly doubted they'd let him come with them to the zoo after his little stunt. He was wrong.

Uncle Vernon was still steaming when he came to the cupboard.

"Well, boy. It looks like Mrs. Figg can't take you, so we've decided to bring you with us. But just so we're clear, NO FUNNY BUSINESS!"

"Right."

He was relieved. For a second he thought they'd decided to lock him in the cupboard, and he wasn't sure he could handle a few hours alone with large spiders.

Dudley was no doubt upset but his friend Piers had already arrived, so he refrained from his fake crying.

As they neared the zoo, he remembered he was supposed to mention a dream about a flying motorbike, but he also knew how Uncle Vernon would take it. He looked at Uncle Vernon. Nope, his temper had not improved. He decided to leave this little detail out, it wasn't that important.

To avoid upsetting the Dursleys any more than he already had, he kept his distance when they neared the ice cream shop. This meant he didn't get any ice cream, but keeping the Dursleys happy was a priority for him at the moment. He wasn't really surprised when, instead of giving it to him like the book said, Uncle Vernon dumped Dudley's leftover knickerbocker glory in the trash. He was obviously still upset.

Finally they got to the reptile house, and now he started to get curious. Although he first tried to keep his distance from the snakes to avoid the infamous scene from the book, curiosity got the better of him. What if he _could_ talk to snakes, just like Harry?

He slowly approached the brazilian boa constrictor just as the Dursleys moved on to the next snake. He stared at the constrictor for a while, afraid to say or do anything. Then the snake opened its eyes and stared back.

"Err- Hi."

The snake lifted its tail like it was waving at him, but he still wasn't sure he was communicating. The snake lifting its tail at that moment didn't have to mean anything.

"Umm- is it always this boring in there?"

This time, there was no mistaking it. The snake shook its head. He was actually having a real conversation with a snake.

_Which means I'm speaking Parceltongue and not English. Weird._

Then it dawned on him that the snake had shaken its head. He had been expecting it to nod.

"It's not always this bad?"

The snake pointed its tail at a bunch of kids on the other side of the room. They were banging on the glass and making a real racket.

"I see. Gee, that's even worse than boring."

The snake nodded.

"So have you ever met anyone like me? You know; someone who can talk to-"

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T _BELIEVE_ WHAT IT'S DOING!"

_Uh-oh._

He quickly jumped out of the way before Dudley arrived to avoid being punched in the ribs. He realized a second later this was a mistake. With Dudley and Piers pressed against the glass the snake looked miserable, especially since the two of them were making more of a racket than twenty of those little kids combined. The snake looked at him for support, but he could do nothing to help it. He was no match for Dudley and Piers.

_If only I hadn't jumped out of the way, my anger might have been enough to help the snake. I might even have been able to do something without the Dursleys suspecting a thing._

The snake was staring at him, as if to say 'help me.'

"I can't," he whispered, "there's nothing I can do."

He could see the disappointment in the snake's eyes. When it learned he could talk its language, it had seen a savior in him. It had thought he was here to rescue it.

_I have to do something!_

_Oh, sure, and then you'll be in the same trouble as Harry in the book, only in your case it'll be worse because of your earlier slip-up._

_I have to help that snake! I've got to be like Harry!_

_But you aren't Harry!_

_Yes I am!_

And even without Dudley's help, he managed to get angry. No, he wasn't angry at Dudley. He was angry at himself.

The glass vanished.

Afterwards, when Piers revealed to the Dursleys he had been talking to the snake, he didn't object. He simply stared out the window and ignored the entire conversation.

Of course, when they got home, Uncle Vernon made him go straight to bed. As soon as he got in the cupboard, he noticed a pair of spiders on the bed. For a while he just stood there, then he looked at them angrily.

"Scram! The lot of you!"

And they did. Every last spider, including ones that were hiding in places he would never have looked in, ran full speed toward the door and clambered under it and out of the cupboard. He heard Aunt Petunia scream.

"That's more like it."

He lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

_I am Harry._

**Author's Notes:**

This chapter has been revamped. It was originally 2 chapters but I've combined them into one. In addition I've rephrased a few sentences and added a little to the story. Notably, I think the beginning looks a lot different, even though I only added a single sentence at the start.


	3. Chapter 2: Witchcraft & Wizardry

**Chosen - a Harry Potter fanfic**

By Anton B. Ingibjartsson, AKA dragonwrath7

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. I am not JK Rowling.

This story was partly influenced and inspired by the fanfic _In The Words Of Ginevra Molly Potter_, by _TheJealousOne_.

THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS TO ALL THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THEM AND DON'T WANT THE EXPERIENCE RUINED FOR YOU, REFRAIN FROM READING FURTHER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

**Chapter Two****: Witchcraft And Wizardry**

"Scram! The lot of you!"

And they did. Every last spider, including ones that were hiding in places he would never have looked in, ran full speed toward the door and clambered under it and out of the cupboard. He heard Aunt Petunia scream.

"That's more like it."

He lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

_I am Harry._

After the infamous snake incident, Harry spent most of his time in his cupboard. Even after his punishment had expired, he still didn't like spending too much time out of the now spider-free cupboard due to the fact that Dudley and his gang were around more often than not and the cupboard was the only place he felt safe from them. Sure it was boring, but he at least had time to plan ahead. He no longer made mistakes like the ones he had been guilty of his very first day in this world. Now he kept his mind focused on the task at hand; making the Dursleys think he knew nothing of the magical world until the Hogwarts letter arrived. He even made plans regarding his introduction to the magical world. He knew the Dursleys would refuse to let him go to Hogwarts, so his only chance was Hagrid. He had to refrain from reading his letter until Dumbledore sent Hagrid to deliver it, but he still had to pretend he wanted to read it. He'd have to help Uncle Vernon lose his marbles over the whole letter issue so sending Hagrid became Dumbledore's only choice. As the days passed, another issue began to worry him; how would he be able to use his knowledge to fix Harry's life without the magic-folk noticing he knew things he shouldn't?

Then came the day when Aunt Petunia left Harry with Mrs. Figg while she and Dudley went to buy Dudley's school uniform. Harry was sorely tempted to tell Mrs. Figg he knew she was a squib, but decided against it. He still hadn't thought of a viable reason why Harry Potter could possibly know stuff like that, and Mrs. Figg would definitely demand an explanation. In any case, she'd undoubtedly report the incident to Dumbledore, whose vast intellect would find gaping holes in any half-witted story Harry might come up with. No, everyone was better off thinking he knew nothing.

There was, however, one good thing about this day: Harry knew this was the day before his Hogwarts letter arrived.

Therefore, he made sure to come out of the cupboard for breakfast the next day, knowing he'd be made to get the post when it arrived. When he entered the kitchen, he was met with a horrible smell and knew, without looking or asking, that Aunt Petunia was dyeing some of Dudley's old clothes so Harry could use them as a school uniform at Stonewall High, where he was expected to go next term. He didn't even open his mouth, but sat down and waited for the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the post, Dudley."

"Make Harry get it."

Harry stood up without even being asked and went straight down the hall to the door.

And there it was; a letter for _Mr. H. Potter, The Cupboard under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey_. Harry picked it up along with the bill and postcard and went straight back to the kitchen.

He handed Uncle Vernon the mail, aside for the letter, and sat back down. He made sure Dudley saw the letter so when he tried to open it, Dudley immediately told Uncle Vernon, who snatched it away.

"That's mine!"

"Who'd be writing to you?"

He opened the envelope and read the first line. Harry, who of course knew exactly what the letter was about, found it extremely difficult not to grin at Uncle Vernon's reaction. His face went from red to green and then became grayish white.

"P-P-Petunia!"

Dudley, now very curious, tried to take the letter from his father, but Uncle Vernon held it out of his reach until Aunt Petunia took it and read the first line for herself.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness – Vernon!"

Dudley and Harry both yelled their demands to read the letter, but were thrown out of the kitchen. Dudley tried to listen at the keyhole, but Harry didn't bother. Without another word, he went into his cupboard and smiled to himself. Watching Uncle Vernon go crazy about the letters would be fun.

That evening, the Dursleys made him move into Dudley's second bedroom. He pretended to be upset about this and made it quite clear that he'd much rather have his letter, but he knew Uncle Vernon had already burned it.

The next day, when Uncle Vernon made Dudley get the post, Harry had a hard time not getting in position to race Uncle Vernon. He didn't want him to think Harry knew the letter was coming.

"There's another one! _Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive_-"

Harry and Uncle Vernon raced each other down the hall, but Harry let Uncle Vernon win and didn't even take part in his wrestling match with Dudley. At last Uncle Vernon stood up with the letter in his hand. Harry put out his hand and angrily demanded to read his letter, but Uncle Vernon sent him to his bedroom.

Harry woke up early next day without the help of an alarm clock and realized this was the day Uncle Vernon would be guarding the stairs to make sure Harry wouldn't try and get the letter directly from the mailman. Harry snuck out of his bedroom and approached the stairs. He thought about going downstairs and 'accidentally' stepping on Uncle Vernon's face, but then he had a better idea. Looking around, he found exactly what he needed.

A few seconds later, Uncle Vernon's scream woke the rest of the family. Aunt Petunia and Dudley both came to see what was going on, but Harry had already gone back to his bedroom, where he couldn't stop himself from laughing.

Uncle Vernon had been hit in the side by a bookshelf, on which there was a note: 'I WANT MY LETTER'

If this didn't drive Uncle Vernon bonkers, nothing would.

As expected, Uncle Vernon nailed up the letter-box that day. He was still sore in the ribs and Harry had begun to wonder if he'd gone too far, but once Uncle Vernon was done, he and Harry had a shouting contest where Uncle Vernon made his opinion of Harry and his parents very clear. By the time Harry went to bed that evening, he was quite convinced that Uncle Vernon deserved what he got and then some.

As the days passed and the letters multiplied and found new ways into the house, Uncle Vernon came closer and closer to insanity. When they came pelting out of the fireplace, Harry made mock attempts at catching them, but jumped out of the way when Uncle Vernon tried to grab him, which resulted in Uncle Vernon crashing into the floor. Quite calmly, Harry looked down on him with crossed arms.

"I want my letter."

"OUT!"

Uncle Vernon once again tried to grab Harry, but Harry knew he didn't have to push the matter any further just now. He dodged Uncle Vernon and followed Dudley and Aunt Petunia out into the hall.

"That does it. I want you all back here in five minutes, ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

"About bloody time," Harry muttered to himself.

They spent the rest of the day in the car without stopping to eat or drink while Uncle Vernon tried to 'shake 'em off' until finally they stopped at a gloomy looking hotel where they spent the night. Harry didn't sleep. He lay awake listening to Dudley's snoring and thinking to himself; _almost there_. At the same time, he couldn't help worrying. He still had no idea how to explain his knowledge of the wizarding world and the events to come. What would he say when they started to notice he knew things he shouldn't? He couldn't even slip up with Hagrid because there was a chance Hagrid would mention it to Dumbledore, who would become suspicious. And therein lay the problem; what possible excuse was good enough to fool the most intelligent wizard in the world? That thought alone was enough to ensure he had absolutely no sleep that night.

The next day, when the owner of the hotel arrived to tell them she had about a hundred letters for _H. Potter_, Uncle Vernon slapped Harry's hand away and told the woman he'd take them.

Harry didn't have to pretend to be miserable anymore. He hadn't slept since the night before, he was still worried about how he would explain his unusual knowledge, and unlike the day before, Uncle Vernon no longer stopped for toilet breaks. This meant that not only did Harry have to hold it in all day, but also had to put up with the horrible smell now coming from Dudley, who seemed to have a smaller bladder than Harry. Uncle Vernon spent the whole day looking for a place remote enough that the magical world would be unable to contact them, and Harry's sore bladder almost caused him to tell Uncle Vernon about the hut on the rock, but he held back since he knew Uncle Vernon would never trust his advice.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" asked Dudley glumly.

"Your dad has been mad since the day he was born. It just took him till now to figure it out," answered Harry.

At last, Uncle Vernon let them out of the car and led the way to the rowboat that would take them to the shabby little shack on a rock in the sea. Before Harry followed them inside, he went behind the shack and solved one of his problems.

Harry couldn't blame his book counterpart for not being able to sleep that night. With the noise from the storm and the stinging cold, he was surprised the Dursleys were able to sleep, but at least they had something soft beneath them. He, of course, had been made to sleep on the floor with nothing but a single ragged blanket to keep him warm.

Harry spent the time trying to keep himself as warm as possible, while the thought of not being able to explain his knowledge gave him no peace. There had to be something he could say. There had to be some excuse that would hold. But no matter how much he thought about it, no such excuse came to mind. He was beginning to panic. Looking over at Dudley's wristwatch, which showed 23:50, he realized his time was nearly up. In ten minutes time, Harry would be eleven years old, and Hagrid would come bursting into the shack.

Nine minutes to go. Harry wondered what would happen if he ended up having to tell everyone he wasn't from this world.

Eight minutes to go. Would anyone believe him if he said something like that?

Seven minutes to go. Would there be a big panic if he revealed this was all just a story in a book?

Six minutes to go. No, they would just think he was crazy, and that wouldn't exactly help his cause.

Five minutes. Harry heard a creak outside the hut and wondered if Hagrid had just landed on the rock.

Four minutes to go. What would he say to Hagrid? Should he just pretend he didn't know anything?

Three minutes. Something slapped hard on the rock outside. No, he couldn't pretend not to know anything now. It would just raise more questions when he finally revealed that he did know these things.

Two minutes. There was a funny crunching noise. Harry was in a real panic now. He racked his brains over and over but no answer to his problem presented itself.

One minute... thirty seconds... twenty... ten...

Harry braced himself. Three – two – one –

BOOM.

Harry sat up and swallowed nervously. It was time.

BOOM. Dudley jerked awake.

"Where's the cannon?"

"Cannon?" replied Harry. "You wish."

There was a crash and Uncle Vernon came into the room holding the rifle he had bought the day before.

"Who's there? I warn you – I'm armed!"

To Harry, the few seconds of silence (apart from the storm) that now ensued felt more like minutes.

_I'm not ready! Please, I'm not ready for this!_

SMASH!

The door flew off its hinges and in the doorway stood the largest man Harry had ever seen.

_Hagrid._

For some odd reason, the sight of Hagrid was enough to calm Harry down considerably, even though he still had no answer to his problem.

_I can't NOT tell him! What do I say?_

Hagrid came inside and fixed the door easily back into its frame.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey..."

Hagrid scared Dudley out of the sofa and sat down. Dudley, scared out of his wits, took refuge behind Aunt Petunia, who was herself crouching behind Uncle Vernon. Hagrid turned to Harry.

"An' here's Harry!"

Harry swallowed nervously. He had been so focused on not revealing his knowledge and acting normal, but how could you act normal when you were face to face with a half-giant?

"Hagrid."

"Oh? How d'yeh know me name?"

Harry wanted to slap himself. What a stupid way to screw up. If he didn't think of something right now, everything was ruined.

_Come on! Think!_

_I can't..._

_There has to be something you can say!_

_There's nothing. Nobody could be expected to know what I know..._

_Don't give up! There has to be a way to fix this!_

_No there isn't! I'm doomed!_

_Stop that. You sound like Trelawney-_

_Wait! Of course! Trelawney!_

_What about her?_

_She's a Seer!_

It was so simple, he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of this before. A Seer would be able to know things nobody else did; things concerning the future!

"I... Well, I'm a... what do you call it... a Seer. You know, I can see the future."

"Really? So yeh know who I am?"

"Yeah. I always knew you'd come and get me."

"Well, tha's interestin'..."

"HOLD IT!" shouted Uncle Vernon suddenly.

"What?" asked Harry calmly.

"You knew? The whole time?"

"No thanks to you. Like it or not, Uncle Vernon, I'm a wizard. Just like my mum and dad."

This statement seemed to throw Uncle Vernon a little off, but it apparently made Aunt Petunia angry.

"Proud of your parents, are you? Your mother was a freak-"

Harry, now angry, interrupted her.

"If you ever say that again, you'll wish you were never born!"

Uncle Vernon yelled and threw away the rifle, which had suddenly caught fire. All the Dursleys were now cowering in fear.

"And while we're on the subject," Harry now added, "how did my parents really die?"

Harry had suddenly realized Seers couldn't see the past; he'd have to pretend he only knew things from the future.

"What?" said Hagrid suddenly.

"Yeh don't know how yer parents died?"

"They never told me anything. I didn't even know I was a wizard, or a Seer for that matter. I always thought the visions I had were just dreams and stuff like that. But I had a vision where I saw you coming in through that door, so if that was true then the rest of it was true too."

Harry hadn't even prepared that little speech beforehand. He'd made it all up on the spot, but he was glad he did. It made perfect sense in terms of why he hadn't told the Dursleys what he knew and explained why he knew these things now.

"So? How did they die? You told me it was a car crash, but-"

"CAR CRASH?" shouted Hagrid. This obviously made him angry, and Harry couldn't blame him. He turned from the Dursleys to Hagrid.

"What really happened? All I can remember is a load of green light."

Hagrid's anger vanished and he turned to Harry.

"Harry... I- I dunno what ter say."

Harry knew Hagrid would hate to say Voldemort's name, and decided to spare him. Voldemort might be a figure from his past, but he had a big role in his future as well. Knowing his name would make certain sense.

"Hagrid... was it Voldemort?"

Hagrid shivered.

"Please don't say that name again. Yes it was him. I dunno why, but he was after yer parents. They tried ter hide, but he found them."

"And killed them... that's what the green light means. It was the killing curse, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. But then he tried ter kill you too, and the curse backfired."

"He's not dead."

"Nah, I reckon' not. He's out there somewhere, too weak to carry on. Anyway, tha's how yeh got that scar. Yeh're the on'y one whose ever survived the killin' curse."

Harry rubbed his scar absent-mindedly and mumbled to himself.

"The dark lord shall mark him as his equal..."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing."

There was silence for a while. Hagrid was the one who broke it.

"Well, I reckon yeh're ready ter read yer letter now."

He pulled a letter out of his many pockets and handed it to Harry before taking out a quill, a piece of parchment and a live owl. Harry watched as he scribbled a note onto the parchment.

_Dear Mr. Dumbledore, Given Harry his letter. Taking him to buy his things tomorrow. Weather's horrible. Hope you're well. Hagrid._

After a few seconds of consideration, he added: _P.S. Harry's a Seer. Knew I was coming._ He attached the parchment to the owl's leg and sent it flying out into the storm.

Harry wasn't entirely sure he wanted Dumbledore to know about his 'Seer abilities' just yet, but it was too late to do anything about it. He turned his attention to his letter. He was about to open it when Uncle Vernon shouted.

"STOP!"

Harry looked at him.

"You want me to drop another bookshelf on you?"

Uncle Vernon just stared at him, half angry, half terrified.

"Then get lost!"

The gun on the floor exploded, which was all it took to frighten the Dursleys out of their wits. They fled into the other room and closed the door behind them.

At last, Harry was able to read his letter:

_Dear Mr. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..._

**Author's Notes:**

This was originally chapter 3, but I had to change the number when I combined chapters 1 and 2 into a single chapter.

I'm sorry this arrived so late. Also, I must apologize that the next chapter will not be up for a while, because I'm going away with my family for a week, and I won't be able to write anything in the meantime.

People have said my chapters are too short. Well, I know they are, but they will get longer as the story goes on. In addition, the total number of chapters will be quite high, because I'm planning to make the story go through most of the major points in the books. The idea is that our hero will not be able to get back home until Voldemort is defeated.

Finally, I'd like to thank those who've given positive comments. You're the ones who'll drive this story forward. (I had a writer's block around the middle of this chapter, but was able to get past it mostly because I didn't want to let my readers down). I know there aren't many who've given a review yet, but I'm really grateful to those who have. Thanks again.


	4. Chapter 3: The Wand Chooses The Wizard

**Chosen - a Harry Potter fanfic**

By Anton B. Ingibjartsson, AKA dragonwrath7

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. I am not JK Rowling.

This story was partly influenced and inspired by the fanfic _In The Words Of Ginevra Molly Potter_, by _TheJealousOne_.

THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS TO ALL THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THEM AND DON'T WANT THE EXPERIENCE RUINED FOR YOU, REFRAIN FROM READING FURTHER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

_**EDIT: Fixed some minor spelling errors (I misspelled Quidditch...)**_

_**EDIT: Changed the size and wood of a certain wand mentioned in this chapter, for reasons explained in the author's notes – but please read the chapter first.**_

**Chapter Three: The Wand Chooses The Wizard**

The gun on the floor exploded, which was all it took to frighten the Dursleys out of their wits. They fled into the other room and closed the door behind them.

At last, Harry was able to read his letter:

_Dear Mr. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..._

The next day, when Harry awoke, he did not immediately open his eyes. Why? Because for a terrible moment he thought it had been a dream. He was afraid he'd been returned to his measly existence outside the world of Harry Potter. He heard snoring that sounded uncannily similar to that of his foster parents' son, who was much older than him and disregarded him completely. He also heard whispers in the next room that reminded him of how his foster parents would whisper about him whenever he did something he shouldn't, rather than confronting him to discuss the problem. He didn't want to go back to that. He liked the idea of being Harry Potter, who would have many good friends, and he didn't like the idea of going back to being bullied by those his foster parents called his friends. No, he didn't want to go back.

But then he heard something else; the sound of waves hitting rock. He opened his eyes and tears streamed from them. He knew that he was still in the cabin on the rock and felt enormous relief and happiness. Here he had Hagrid. Here he would have Ron and Hermione. No, he didn't want to go back.

Harry sat up and looked over at Hagrid, just to make sure he was still there. Yes, that overlarge body and wild hair and beard were unmistakable. And the snoring was definitely his. The whispers belonged to the Dursleys, who were still in the other room and apparently still awake. Harry picked up the letter he'd received from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the middle of the night. He'd already read it several times, but he read it again now, anyway. It seemed to help him believe this whole thing was real.

An hour or so later, he heard tapping on the window. He'd been expecting it, but it still felt strange to see an owl knocking on the glass. He stood up and let it in, then rummaged in Hagrid's coat for some money. Hagrid was already awake by the time Harry finished paying the owl, which immediately took off through the window.

When they got outside, Hagrid stepped into the boat Harry and the Dursleys had used to get there. After a second's hesitation, Harry followed him. It wasn't that he was afraid to step into the boat that didn't look sturdy enough to carry someone as big as Hagrid, he had simply wondered how the Dursleys would get back without a vessel. He very much doubted Dudley was in any shape to swim, but he pushed the thought aside. He wasn't exactly a fan of the Dursleys and he knew that in the book they'd gotten away from there safely, though he wasn't sure exactly how. When they got to the harbor, he decided to ask Hagrid to send the boat back. Just in case.

When they reached the Leaky Cauldron, behind which would be the entrance to Diagon Alley where Harry could buy all his school things, Harry braced himself. He knew what to expect from the barman and pub-goers. As expected, at the mention of Harry's name the whole pub went crazy. Every last one of them insisted on shaking his hand. And when they finally got free of the crowd, Hagrid led the way to the entrance of Diagon Alley.

Harry thought he knew what to expect. He thought wrong. He had read the book several times, but the descriptions given there paled in comparison to actually seeing the place. It was -Harry knew no other word for it- beautiful. The crowd in the pub had been overwhelming enough, but this was something else; the shops, the people, the strange, leaning buildings and the oddly shaped street. Harry looked eagerly in all directions, trying to take it all in, until they reached Gringotts. Harry tried not to stare at the short, long-fingered creatures he encountered there, not wanting to insult a goblin. After a fast ride in the tunnels beneath the bank, during which Harry tried not to show how much fun he was having, on account of Hagrid's sick face, they reached Harry's vault. After taking some money out of it, to be used in purchasing Harry's school things, they were off to vault seven hundred and thirteen. Hagrid, trying to act secretive and important, took a small package from the vault and asked Harry not to mention this to anyone. Harry, of course, already knew what was in the package, but decided to keep that little detail to himself so as not to worry Hagrid. After another wild ride, Harry went to buy school robes while Hagrid, looking rather ill, stumbled off toward the Leaky Cauldron for a pick-me-up.

When Harry entered Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, he thought it seemed rather ordinary, compared to the surrounding shops. It didn't look too different from an ordinary clothes shop. Madam Malkin smiled at him and showed him to the back, where a pale blond-haired boy was already being fitted for robes. _So_, thought Harry, _this is Draco Malfoy_. He said nothing, though, but simply stood to allow Madam Malkin to perform the measurements.

"Hullo. Hogwarts too?" asked the pale Malfoy. Harry simply nodded. He knew the books depicted Malfoy as a sort of rival and enemy to Harry, but didn't want to dislike him just because he was supposed to. He therefore decided to just keep his mouth shut.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands. Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow. Have _you_ got your own broom?"

Harry quietly shook his head. Malfoy looked at him.

"What's wrong with you? Did someone put a Silencing Charm on you or something?"

"No."

"Well, why haven't you said anything, then?"

"What's there to say?"

"Well, for one, what house do you think you'll be in?"

"Gryffindor."

Malfoy sneered. Harry had to admit he was having a hard time _not_ disliking him.

"I'M going to be in Slytherin, for sure."

"That's nice."

Malfoy didn't seem to like Harry's tone, nor had Harry been expecting him to. Before Malfoy could retort, however, Hagrid arrived outside the window holding two ice-creams. Harry smiled and waved at him. Malfoy noticed.

"So who's that? Your father?" he sneered again. Harry wanted to punch him.

"No, that's Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper."

"Right. So why's he with you? Where are your parents?"

"Why do you care?"

Malfoy didn't answer, but just stared at Harry for a while. Then, with an even bigger sneer than before, he spoke again.

"They're Muggles, aren't they?"

"Who?"

"Your parents. They're Muggles. You're Muggle-born."

"No, I'm not."

"So why aren't your parents with you?"

Just then, Madam Malkin announced that Harry was done, and Harry jumped down and headed for the counter. Feeling Malfoy's eyes on him, he stopped midway and sighed. Then he turned around and lifted his hair away from his forehead so his scar was plainly visible.

"Does this answer your question?"

Malfoy just stared. He quite obviously couldn't believe his eyes. Harry let go of his hair, went to the counter and paid. Just when he was about to leave the shop, he heard Malfoy's voice from the back.

"Potter!"

"Yes?"

"I wouldn't hang around with riff-raff like that Hagrid too much, it might rub off on you. _I_ could introduce you to the right-"

"No thanks."

Angrily, Harry walked out and slammed the door hard behind him.

Harry quietly ate his ice-cream with Hagrid as they visited various shops and, unlike his book counterpart, did not ask about Quidditch or school houses, but when Harry's bad mood started to worry Hagrid, he did tell him about his talk with Malfoy. Hagrid told him not to let someone like that rattle him. Harry just sighed and finished his ice-cream.

When they got to Eeylops Owl Emporium, Hagrid insisted on getting Harry a birthday present. Harry didn't bother to argue, and left the store a short while later holding a cage with a snowy owl inside. He thought the owl looked beautiful, and his bad mood dissipated a great deal.

And then they entered Ollivanders. The feeling he received upon entering made him completely forget about Malfoy and the bad mood he'd been in. Instead, he was filled with awe. There was something very powerful in the air, it felt like he'd been given the privilege of entering a forbidden place. He thought about the massive number of wands in the shop and was quite sure they had something to do with it; perhaps the strange chill he felt was caused by the sheer amount of magic in the room.

"Good afternoon."

Harry jumped, and heard a strange crunch behind him that told him Hagrid had too. Hagrid quickly stood up; he had nearly broken the chair he sat on. When Harry had located Ollivander's moon-like eyes, he bowed and returned his greeting. He had a great respect for Ollivander based on what he'd read in the books, simply because he seemed a good and wise person.

Ah yes. Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter."

"Good to meet you, Mr. Ollivander."

Ollivander did not smile or return the sentiment, but Harry thought he still seemed pleased.

"You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work. Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it –"

"The wand chooses the wizard," said Harry suddenly. "Yeah, I know."

Ollivander had Harry try various wands, but Harry didn't expect any of them to choose him, any more than they had chosen his book counterpart. Finally, the moment Harry had been waiting for arrived.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere – I wonder, now – yes, why not – unusual combination – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand and was immediately surprised.

_Something's wrong. Aren't I supposed to feel the connection as soon as I touch the wand?_

He lifted the wand above his head and brought it swooshing down, but no sparks came out. Truly afraid now, Harry had a hard time letting go of the wand when Ollivander tried to take it. Ollivander was muttering by the time he put the wand back in the box.

"No, of course not, what was I thinking..."

Meanwhile, Harry's insides were growing colder by the second.

_It didn't choose me... It didn't choose me... Does this mean I'm not... but the snake... and the spiders... and the gun..._

Ollivander kept bringing down new wands, muttering.

"Not to worry, not to worry. I have a few hundred wands left."

_A few hundred? Does he expect me to be here all day? And what if NONE of them choose me? The phoenix wand should have chosen me! I should have been chosen by the wand with Fawkes' feather as a core! What is going on!?_

They kept trying new wands, but nothing happened whatsoever. After about an hour, Ollivander simply stood and stared into space, as if he were in deep thought, and then he muttered to himself.

"I wonder... not very likely, but it can't hurt to try..."

And he went far into the back of the store. Harry heard a door open and wondered what kind of wand Ollivander could possibly be keeping behind a closed door instead of out here with the rest of the wands. A few seconds later, Ollivander returned with a wand box. After a second's hesitation, he opened the box and held out the wand. Unlike with all the other wands, he did not describe this wand's attributes.

Harry took the wand and felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised it above his head and brought it swishing down, just as he had the phoenix wand, and a rain of sparks shot out of it like fireworks. He thought the color seemed a little odd. The sparks were neither the phoenix red and gold nor the unicorn silver and white and though he didn't know the spark color of dragon heartstring, he doubted these colors belonged to a dragon. The sparks were blue, red and green.

Hagrid clapped, but Ollivander appeared to be dumbstruck. He took the wand back from Harry, put it into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, all the while muttering to himself.

"Yes, yes... Birch, eleven and a half inches, firm... most unusual..."

Harry didn't know what to say. He was relieved to have been chosen by a wand, but was also rather afraid. He had been counting on getting the phoenix wand. Without it, he would not have the protection of Priori Incantatem. Then he realized Ollivander had forgotten something.

"Err, Mr. Ollivander? You didn't say what kind of core the wand has. And what's so unusual?"

Ollivander turned toward Harry, and seemed hesitant to answer.

"Many years ago, in the time when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was strongest, the Ministry of Magic made a plea to all the wandmakers of Britain. They asked us all to create new, more powerful wands to be used against the Death Eaters. I never believed such a thing was possible, but I was told to try a new type of core. I knew no single core could be stronger than dragon heartstring, unicorn hair and phoenix tail feathers, but I studied the matter and decided upon three possible cores. I discovered, however, that none of them were powerful enough to make a proper core. The ministry was getting impatient, so I decided to go ahead and make the wand, but when the time came to choose which core to use, an idea occurred to me. Next day, I showed up at the Ministry with a prototype wand, something no man had tried before. I called it the Trinity Wand. Birch, eleven and a half inches, firm, the core of which consisted of auguray feather, ramora fin and salamander heartstring."

Harry looked at the box incredulously.

"_Three _cores?"

"Hence the name Trinity Wand. Now, with three different cores, I found it highly unlikely any man or woman would be worthy of carrying it because its needs would be very specific, and I told the Ministry this. Even so, the wand was tried by every Ministry worker, along with several other people, but none of them were chosen."

Harry was speechless. A wand that was possibly the strongest ever made had rejected every member of the Ministry, but had chosen _him_. He wasn't sure how to feel about this. He was very honored to have been chosen by such a selective wand, but a part of him would rather have the phoenix wand and the protection of Priori Incantatem.

"Now, Mr. Potter. The wand is technically the property of the Ministry of Magic, so I will have to inform them of the wand's choice. I feel confident they will not mind, considering who the wand chose. Incidentally, I'm not sure how powerful this wand is. It's possible it won't work properly with certain spells, but it holds the power of three, so it may be able to perform magic no other wand could imitate."

Harry swallowed and nodded nervously. Hagrid clapped Harry's shoulder so hard that Harry almost fell to his knees.

"Chosen by a special wand like that. Jus' wait till Dumbledore hears about this."

On the eve of August the 31st, Harry lay in his bed and stared at the ceiling. He had spent most of the month in this room reading his school books. The rest of his free time had gone into pondering the mysteries of his wand. He still couldn't understand why he hadn't been chosen by the phoenix wand. Nothing he'd changed so far could have influenced that. How could it? That had been his first day in the magical world, and the only real change he'd made was to tell Hagrid he was a seer. Could his lie have caused this? He picked up his wand and looked at it. Ollivander had called it the first of its kind, the 'Trinity Wand', but had warned that the wand might not be able to handle certain spells.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Dudley snoring in the next room. He hadn't realized how late it was, and remembered he still hadn't spoken with uncle Vernon about getting to London next morning. He hurried downstairs to talk with his uncle, but the lights were off and nobody was there. He went back upstairs and approached the master bedroom. He put his ear to the door and heard uncle Vernon snoring on the other side. Deciding he'd better not wake his uncle, Harry went back to his own bedroom and finished packing. Hedwig had been out hunting, and now came soaring in through the window. Harry gave her some owl treats before shutting her in her cage. Then he undressed and went to bed, thinking he'd just talk to uncle Vernon in the morning.

Next day, Harry woke up late. It was already nine o'clock when he descended the stairs, hoping the Dursleys weren't already gone.

But the Dursleys were still there. In fact, it didn't look as though they were going anywhere at all. Uncle Vernon was quietly reading the paper, aunt Petunia was cleaning the kitchen, and Dudley didn't even seem to be up yet.

"Err, uncle Vernon?"

Uncle Vernon grunted to indicate he was listening.

"I've got to be at King's Cross station in London by eleven to go to Hogwarts. Do you think you could give me a lift?"

"No."

Harry's insides went cold.

"No?"

"No. I've got no reason to go to London, and I'm not taking the trip just so you can go and learn you-know-what."

"No reason..."

And then it hit Harry; in the book, uncle Vernon had only agreed to give him a lift because he had to take Dudley to a doctor to remove the pig's tail Hagrid had given him. But Hagrid had only done that because uncle Vernon insulted Dumbledore, and Harry had driven the Dursleys out of the room before they got the chance to insult anyone other than Harry's parents. If uncle Vernon had no reason to go to London, how would Harry get there?

Harry backed out of the room and almost ran up the stairs and into his room, where he paced back and forth for minutes upon minutes, but the panic that had taken over him made it seem like hours. He had to find a way. He couldn't apparate; he didn't know how – and even if he did, underage apparatation was illegal. He couldn't fly; he had no broom, first-year students at Hogwarts weren't allowed to own one. He had no flew powder, and the fireplace was boarded up and not connected to the flew network anyway. He kept pacing the room until an idea struck him. He wasn't exactly sure how it worked, but he had to try. He stuffed his wand in his pocket, grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage, and hurried outside. If this didn't work, he'd just have to send a letter to Hagrid and ask for help. He knew the teachers would be understanding, especially Dumbledore.

He put down the trunk and cage on the sidewalk and pulled up his wand.

_Well, here goes_.

He waved the wand into the street as if trying to catch a cab.

The results were instantaneous. A huge triple-decker bus appeared out of nowhere and stopped in front of Harry. The doors opened and an old man stepped out and began to read a familiar text that Harry remembered from the books.

_I guess Stan Shunpike hasn't started working in the Knight Bus yet_.

Harry paid the fare for a ticket to King's Cross station, London. It was a short but interesting trip. Various witches and wizards could be seen getting on and off the bus, though thankfully none of them recognized Harry; he suspected the trip would be put on hold if all the passengers (not to mention the driver) insisted on shaking his hand. After about ten minutes, Harry got off at King's Cross. Very relieved, he quickly made his way to the hidden platform nine and three-quarters. When he got to the barrier between platforms nine and ten, he stopped and looked at a nearby clock. The train wouldn't be leaving for an hour and a half. He remembered that the Weasley family wouldn't be arriving until just before eleven and he wanted to be sure to meet them.

Thinking it would look suspicious to other witches and wizards if he just hung around the entrance to the platform, he decided to get a bite to eat. It wasn't until he reached the food stands that he realized he had no way to buy food. He couldn't exactly pay with wizard's money.

"Excuse me," said a girl's voice behind him, "do you know how to get to platform nine and three-quarters?"

**Author's Notes:**

As stated above the chapter, I've decided to alter the nature of "a certain wand" – I think you can guess which. The Trinity Wand's original features can be found further down in these notes, but I'd like to explain the changes I made. First, I believe that it would be too much of a coincidence for the TW to be the same length as the phoenix wand, so I gave it an extra half inch. As for the wood, I took a look at a Celtic Tree Calendar. In JK's version, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco all have wands whose wood matches their birthdays on this calendar. In Harry's and Draco's case, this is a coincidence, but when JK realized this, she made sure to include Ron and Hermione as well. As I was looking over the calendar, I decided that of all the woods shown there, the holly fits Harry the best, but only JK's Harry. Birch, on the other hand, is a much better fit for my Harry and _especially _the Trinity Wand (Birch is associated with rebirth, protection and healing). Also, since I based the character on myself (no, my parents aren't dead, nor do I live with an adoptive family of any sort, and yes, he's a lot braver than I am) he might as well share my birthday – and guess what? My birthday happens to be January 8th – right in the middle of the Birch month. So, birch it is.

This used to be chapter 4, but since I combined the first two chapters into one, I had to change the chapter number of every chapter after that.

I'm sorry this arrived so late. I've been having a major case of writer's block. There were some other factors too, but that's the main reason.

Other reasons include the chapter's ending, which took forever to decide on (originally, the chapter was supposed to include the train ride and the sorting, but then it would have been twice as long, so I decided to end it like this).

Also, I had to stop writing when I got to the Ollivanders part, because I realized it was a perfect opportunity to add another twist. Remember, the Harry in the books and the Harry in this story are two different people, so they probably wouldn't be chosen by the same wand.

So how did I figure out what the wand should be like? First off, I had to choose a core. I was going to use Unicorn Hair, but then I thought: Why not try something new? So I decided on those three. Note that in a way, the Trinity Wand is connected to the four primary elements; Fire (Salamander), Water (Ramora), Wind (Auguray, AKA Irish Phoenix) and Earth (Holly). As for the wood type and length, I went with the same type and length as Harry's wand in the books. Reason: This Harry has the same body as the other one. I took a close look at some of the known wand facts and found that the longest wand belonged to Hagrid (probably the biggest wizard ever) and the shortest to Umbridge (do I even need to explain this one?). As a result, I deducted that the wand size should have to do with the size and shape of the body. As for the Holly, well being in Harry's body beans sharing Harry's birthday. Most characters in the HP world have wand wood that corresponds with the tree of their birth month. In Harry's case, Holly.

Obviously, this means no Priori Incantatem. There will also be other issues later.

People have been reminding me to include the 'butterfly effect'. Don't worry everyone, I haven't forgotten. This chapter includes the very first major changes. Assuming you read carefully, you're guaranteed to notice that Harry almost got in trouble because of something he changed.

Last but not least; the name. I'm sure you'll agree that the wand was THE major point in this chapter, but since I didn't originally intend to change anything there, the chapter has gone through two name changes. Originally, I dubbed it 'A Journey To Remember' because it was supposed to include the train ride and the sorting, but as soon as I added the wand thing, I decided to call it 'Changes'. Even then, I intended to include the train ride and sorting, but as soon as I realized none of it was as big a point as the Trinity Wand, I decided to end the chapter where I did and give it a name that fit the whole wand thing.

And finally, to my readers, thank you again for your comments. If you have any questions, just ask them in your comments. I'll try to remember to answer any such questions here.


	5. Chapter 4: The Path To Greatness

**Chosen - a Harry Potter fanfic**

By Anton B. Ingibjartsson, AKA dragonwrath7

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. I am not JK Rowling.

This story was partly influenced and inspired by the fanfic _In The Words Of Ginevra Molly Potter_, by _TheJealousOne_.

THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS TO ALL THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THEM AND DON'T WANT THE EXPERIENCE RUINED FOR YOU, REFRAIN FROM READING FURTHER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

**Chapter Four****: The Path To Greatness**

Thinking it would look suspicious to other witches and wizards if he just hung around the entrance to the platform, he decided to get a bite to eat. It wasn't until he reached the food stands that he realized he had no way to buy food. He couldn't exactly pay with wizard's money.

"Excuse me," said a girl's voice behind him, "do you know how to get to platform nine and three-quarters?"

Harry turned around and saw a girl with brown eyes and bushy brown hair. She was wearing a robe. Harry smiled and leaned toward her.

"How did you know I'm a wizard? If you'd asked a Muggle that question, they'd think you were touched in the head."

The girl did not bother to whisper.

"Well, it's obvious isn't it?"

When Harry did not reply, she sighed.

"Muggles don't usually keep owls as pets."

Harry looked at Hedwig in her cage. She had fallen asleep. How she managed to do that with all the noise in the station Harry didn't know.

"So do you know how to get to the platform or not?"

"Sure. You just walk straight through the barrier between platforms nine and ten. But the train won't be leaving for over an hour. I was going to get something to eat, but I don't have any Muggle money."

"Why not? Being alone, I thought you were Muggle-born."

Harry's smile faltered.

"Why does everyone assume that I'm Muggle-born just because I'm alone? My parents died when I was a baby."

The girl's face fell into a frown and she looked like she was about to apologize when a woman behind her spoke.

"Hermione, dear, aren't you going to introduce us to your new friend?"

"Yes, I'm sorry mom."

She turned to the woman, who stood next to a man that appeared to be her husband. Both of them were dressed in Muggle clothing.

"This is my mom, Jean, and my dad, Richard. And I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger."

Harry's smile returned and he bowed politely.

"Nice to meet you all. I'm Harry Potter."

Hermione's eyes went wide, though not as wide as Harry had expected.

"_The_ Harry Potter?"

"Yes. I imagine you read about me somewhere."

"Well, yes. You're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_, but how did you know I'd read about you? I mean, I could have just heard about you somewhere."

"You know what a seer is?"

Hermione nodded.

"Well, I'm a seer. I didn't know your name, but I knew I would meet you today and that you loved reading books," Harry lied. It was a little disturbing how good a liar he'd become.

This time, Hermione's eyes went _really_ wide, but before she could say anything, her father interrupted.

"Honey?" he said, looking at his wristwatch. "The boy's right. We still have over an hour until the train leaves. Would you like something to eat before you leave?"

"Oh. Yes, dad."

Hermione looked from her father to Harry.

"Um, dad? Can you buy something for Harry too?"

"Certainly."

Harry smiled at him.

"Really? Thanks, Mr. Granger."

A few minutes later, Harry sat down with the Grangers and took a bite from the sandwich Mr. Granger had bought for him. After only a few seconds of silence, it seemed Hermione could no longer keep her mouth shut. For about ten minutes, she rambled on and on about Hogwarts, the school houses, and professor McGonagall, who had delivered the letter to her and helped the Grangers to do Hermione's shopping.

After the outburst, Hermione excused herself and ran off to the Ladies' Room, leaving Harry alone with her parents. Mr. Granger leaned toward Harry.

"Mr. Potter, there's something I would like to ask you."

"Oh. Go ahead."

"Well, the woman who delivered Hermione's letter tried to explain this, and so did Hermione after she'd read a few of her books, but I still don't understand."

Harry slowly chewed the last of his sandwich, waiting for him to ask the question. Mr. Granger seemed unable to put his thoughts into words. Harry swallowed.

"Yes? What is it?"

"What is magic? How does it work? Is this all real?"

Harry was caught off-guard. He had not expected to find himself explaining the workings of magic to a Muggle, especially since he didn't really know that much about it himself.

"Yes," he said very seriously, "this is all real."

He cleared his throat.

"Magic is a type of energy that exists within nature and inside all living beings. All humans have it, most of them just can't use it. I don't know what decides who becomes a witch or wizard and who doesn't, but it's probably to do with blood. Very few ordinary people have magical children, and even fewer witches and wizards have non-magical children. Being a witch or wizard basically means you can harness the force of nature within you and decide where and how it is distributed."

"But you said all humans have it?" piped in Mrs. Granger.

"Yes. There are some forms of magic that are even available to Muggles. Love, for instance."

"Love?" said Mr. Granger skeptically.

"Love. It's a powerful and very mysterious form of magic. It's what saved me from certain death as a child. My mother, out of love, died to protect me. That means the man who killed her can no longer use magic to cause me any permanent harm."

The Grangers looked at each other, apparently still skeptical.

"Honestly, Mr. Granger. You have a wife and a daughter. You mean to tell me you can't see the power of love? What power drew you together? What power made it possible for Hermione to be born?"

Mr. Granger looked at him, and Harry was sure he was beginning to understand, but then Mrs. Granger spoke.

"So, could I protect Hermione the way your mother protected you?"

"Yes, though I hope you never have to. What matters is choice. My mother was given the choice to move out of the way and live, but she chose to protect me no matter what."

Harry was starting to feel pride welling up inside him, though he wasn't sure why. Lily Potter was, after all, not his real mother.

Hermione came running back and reminded them all that the train was leaving soon. They all got up and quickly made their way towards platforms nine and ten.

As they approached, Harry spotted a sea of red hair. They followed what was obviously the Weasley family toward the barrier.

"Now, what's the platform number?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Nine and three-quarters," said Harry behind her and they all turned around to see who had spoken. "Honestly, hasn't it _always_ been nine and three-quarters?"

"And who are you?" asked one of the twins.

"Pardon me," said Harry and bowed. "Harry James Potter."

Every Weasley eye stared at him.

"_The_ Harry Potter?" asked the other twin.

"That's me."

He indicated the Grangers, who were right behind him.

"This is Richard Granger, his wife Jean, and their daughter Hermione."

The little girl who was holding Mrs. Weasley's hand disappeared behind her.

"Oh don't be like that," said Harry smiling. When she peeked around her mother's plump body, he bowed to her and added, "it's nice to meet you."

"Well," said Mrs. Weasley, "you certainly are a gentleman, Mr. Potter."

"Only with pretty girls," he said boldly, but didn't dare look Mrs. Weasley in the eye after that statement.

The girl blushed so much her face was almost as red as her hair. She really was very pretty. Her brothers all laughed and went to shake Harry's hand and introduce themselves. Harry immediately knew he was going to have trouble remembering which twin was Fred and which was George. He'd always been horrible with names and faces.

"I'm Molly and this is Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley when the boys had finished shaking Harry's hand so much his arm felt like it was coming off.

Harry bowed again to Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley raised an eyebrow.

"Are you hitting on my daughter, Mr. Potter?"

Harry blushed slightly, but before he had the chance to say anything, Hermione interrupted.

"Oh! Oh! Harry! It's almost eleven! Hurry or we'll miss the train!"

"Right."

He looked around, and when he was sure there were no Muggles watching, he told Hermione and her parents to follow his lead. Then, pushing the trolley ahead of him, he ran straight into the barrier between platforms nine and ten, but instead of the impact the Grangers had no doubt been expecting, he simply went right through it and came out right in front of the Hogwarts Express.

Only a few minutes later, Harry, Hermione and the four Weasley boys were all aboard the train. Hermione gave a small giggle when she spotted Harry staring out the window at Ginny, who stared right back, both of them blushing. As the train left the station, he waved at Ginny and she waved back, half-laughing but with tears in her eyes.

By unspoken consent, Harry and Hermione shared a compartment. Staring out the window, he listened to her rambling about this and that regarding the platform and train she had no doubt picked up in one of her books. After a few minutes of this, the compartment door slid open and Hermione stopped talking. The youngest Weasley boy was standing in the doorway.

"Anyone sitting there? Everywhere else is full."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and Harry could tell she didn't mind.

"Go ahead," he said. "Ronald, right?"

"Err- just Ron."

He sat down. A few seconds later, the twins came along and told them they were going to see a giant tarantula their friend had brought.

"A giant tarantula? Are you sure he's allowed to have that?"

The twins looked at Hermione.

"Who cares? It's cool!"

Hermione did not look happy with this, but the twins took off before she could retort.

"Lighten up," Harry advised her. "They're not going to be able to hide that thing when they get to Hogwarts."

Hermione looked at him.

"Was that a prediction?"

"No, it's common sense."

"Prediction?" asked Ron. "What are you talking about?"

"Harry's a seer."

"Really? A seer? Err... What's that?"

"It's a person who sometimes gets visions of the future," explained Harry.

"Wow? You can see the future?"

"Sometimes."

"Wicked."

Some time later, Ron worked up the courage to ask if Harry remembered anything about the night he got the scar, but Harry said he just remembered a lot of green light and nothing else. Both Ron and Hermione looked a little disappointed at this. At some point during their conversation, Harry mentioned Voldemort, but opted to simply call him Riddle. When the others didn't understand who Riddle was, he told them Lord Voldemort's true name was Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"But how would you know that?" asked Hermione after she and Ron flinched at the sound of Voldemort's name.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"How would you know You-Know-Who's true name? I thought seers could only see the future."

Harry hesitated to answer.

"We _can_ only see the future."

"But then, how-"

Hermione froze.

"Y-you mean he... He isn't..."

"What?" said a very confused Ron.

"Is he... coming back?"

"Sooner or later."

This time, Ron froze too. The atmosphere in the room seemed to have grown considerably colder, and for a second Harry thought a Dementor might be about to glide into the compartment. He knew, however, that he wouldn't have to worry about Dementors until his third year at Hogwarts.

Harry leaned against the window and stared outside, imagining Ginny still running beside the train and waving at him. When he realized what his thoughts meant, he blushed a little but smiled to himself.

_Well, that sure ought to make things easier._

When the witch with the lunch trolley came to their compartment, Hermione made do with a few sugar-spun quills, but Harry bought a little of everything. Ron, of course, bought nothing. As soon as the witch departed, Harry tossed a bunch of his new sweets to Ron, who protested that he'd brought sandwiches.

"Corned beef," said Harry.

"Err- what?" asked Ron, confused.

"She forgot you don't like corned beef."

Ron checked his sandwiches and found that his mother had, in fact, put corned beef on all of them. It took a little more persuading, but eventually Ron agreed to 'help' Harry eat his candy. Hermione smiled and couldn't help giggle a little.

Once Hermione had finished her quills, Harry offered her some of his candy, but instead she resumed the rambling speech she had started before Ron arrived.

It didn't take Ron long to get annoyed at her rambling and he looked like he was about to start arguing with her when the compartment door slid open and Neville Longbottom asked if they'd seen a toad. Hermione immediately got up to help him search, but Ron just wished them good luck. Harry considered helping, if only to show compassion, but realized that the news he was on the train would already have spread among the students. He didn't want people staring at him and asking him questions all day, and he told Hermione this. She agreed that Harry should stay but was quite annoyed that Ron didn't want to help. She and Neville left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

He indicated his rat, which was fast asleep. As Ron started trying to turn the rat yellow, Harry stared at it, trying his very best not to let his disgust show. He knew Scabbers was actually a disguised wizard; a coward named Peter Pettigrew, who had betrayed Harry's parents to Lord Voldemort. For now, however, he decided to keep this information to himself. He'd need Pettigrew around when Sirius Black, who had been convicted of Pettigrew's crimes, escaped from Azkaban prison. That rat was the only existing proof that Sirius, who happened to be Harry's godfather, was innocent.

When Ron's color-changing spell turned out to be a dud, he put his wand away and led the conversations in other directions, such as Hogwarts houses and Quidditch.

After a while, Harry suggested they change into their school robes. He and Ron each opened their trunks and pulled their robes out. They were about to change when the compartment door slid open and a familiar pale boy came inside, followed by two thickset boys that looked like bodyguards.

"Hello, Potter," said the pale Draco Malfoy. His sneer was back with a vengeance.

"What do _you_ want?"

"I never got to introduce myself last time. These are Crabbe and Goyle, and my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a small cough which hid a snigger.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Harry.

"I see you're still mixing with the wrong crowd, Potter. If you don't want to permanently scar your reputation I suggest you stick with me. My offer still stands."

"Sorry Malfoy, but I prefer 'blood traitors' and 'mudbloods' over filth like you. Get out."

Ron seemed shocked at Harry's use of words like 'mudblood', but he didn't say anything.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys?"

"Get out!" Harry's anger was rising.

"Careful, Potter. Wouldn't want you to go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid and it'll rub off on you."

Harry instinctively grabbed his wand and pointed it at Malfoy, but before he could so much as utter a word, another voice sounded in the hallway. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were all thrown out of the compartment and into the one opposite. Harry, Ron, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle all looked in the hallway and saw Hermione with her wand raised. Malfoy and the other two got up and ran away without a word.

"Nice," said an awestruck Ron.

"Was that a Summoning Charm?" asked Harry. Hermione nodded.

"I've never done it before, but I couldn't stand what Malfoy was saying, and- Oh, now I'm in so much trouble!"

"No you're not," said Harry firmly. "If anyone asks, I did that."

She looked at him and Harry wasn't sure what she was feeling. Tears were flowing from her eyes. She ran into the compartment and hugged Harry.

"Oh, you mustn't! You'll get in trouble."

"Harry's right," said Ron, who had also got up. "We were going to curse them anyway. Harry already had his wand pointing at Malfoy."

"Yeah," said Harry, who was gently stroking Hermione's hair. "Let me take the blame for this one. The worst I could get is detention; they can't deduct points if the school year hasn't begun."

Hermione let go of him and Harry smiled at her.

"Now do you mind giving us some privacy to change?"

She gave a sort of chuckle and left the compartment, teary-eyed but definitely feeling better.

"Not that I don't approve," began Ron, "I mean she did get rid of Malfoy when he insulted our families and everything, but why are you doing this? I mean, she'd only get one detention or something."

"I'm doing it," answered Harry, "because she's a Muggle-born. I figure she's going to have a pretty rough time with the Slytherins, and I want to be sure she has at least one friend she can talk to. Besides, I already know she's the best student in our year. Having a friend like that can't possibly hurt."

Once they were both in their robes, the announcement sounded, telling them they were nearly at Hogwarts. Harry opened the compartment door and looked outside. A few girls were fussing over Hermione, asking why she'd been crying. Harry went to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"You alright?"

"Yeah. I overreacted a bit, didn't I?"

"A bit," said Harry and smiled at her.

The train slowed to a stop and Ron joined them as they made their way outside.

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"

They followed Hagrid to the boats, which they used to sail across the lake towards Hogwarts. Harry couldn't keep his eyes off the castle. It was far more beautiful and magnificent than he could have imagined. When they got to the harbor beneath the school, Hagrid revealed he had found Neville's toad and gave it back before they ascended the stairs and reached the huge door into the castle. Hagrid knocked thee times.

A stern-looking woman opened the door. Harry immediately knew this was Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, who taught Transfiguration. Hagrid left them with her and she led them into a room next to the Great Hall, where they were to wait until the Sorting began.

So far, most everything was going as expected, but now a thought struck Harry: _What if I don't get sorted into Gryffindor? That would change everything._

_Don't be silly. Why wouldn't you be sorted into Gryffindor?_

_I don't know. Why didn't I get chosen by the phoenix wand?_

_Well, probably because the wand chooses the wizard. Since you aren't the same Harry as the one from the books-_

_Exactly! I'm not the same Harry as the one from the books! What if I'm not worthy to be put into Gryffindor?_

Before he could continue his imaginary conversation, however, McGonagall returned and told them to form a line. Nervously, Harry did what he was told, and as Ron and Hermione took their places on either side of him, the look on Hermione's face told Harry she'd noticed the disappearance of his confidence. She took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. This felt a little odd coming from her, but he appreciated the gesture and returned it.

They followed McGonagall into the Great Hall, where they were closely watched by the older students. McGonagall fetched the Sorting Hat and placed it on a four-legged stool in front of them. Though he knew it would happen, it still seemed weird to Harry when a rip near the brim opened wide and a voice came out of it.

When the hat had finished its song, everyone clapped and the sorting finally began.

As McGonagall called out each name, Harry's apprehension steadily increased. It didn't help that Hermione's surname was ahead of his in the alphabet. Once she left and put the hat on, a large portion of his remaining courage left with her.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Of course she was in Gryffindor, and of course Ron would be in Gryffindor too. The only question was; where would Harry be? As the sorting continued, more and more of his courage left him. By the time he heard 'Potter, Harry', he was absolutely terrified.

With each step he took towards the stool, he felt more and more eyes following him. He sat down, McGonagall placed the hat on his head and it sank down over his eyes.

For a while, he heard nothing.

_What's wrong? Why can't I hear the hat talking in my ear?_

"Because I'm thinking," answered a small voice in his ear.

Harry sat quietly and tried to be calm.

"You are not who you pretend to be," said the hat at last.

Harry's heart sank and he could feel himself starting to panic. Of course the Sorting Hat would be able to tell. Why had he not thought of that?

"Do not worry. I can see that your intentions are good. You mean no harm and, in fact, are here trying to help. I will not reveal your secret."

Harry calmed down considerably.

"I see you do not want to be in Slytherin, and that you would prefer Gryffindor."

_Please,_ thought Harry, _don't put me in Slytherin. Please!_

"Slytherin," said the Sorting Hat calmly, "is not the only path to greatness. Putting you in Slytherin would greatly damage your chances of completing your mission. There is, in fact, only one house here that will suit you."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

**Author's Notes:**

This used to be chapter 5, but after combining the first two chapters into one, I had to change the number of every chapter following. I also added a tiny bit to a sentence regarding Harry's conversation with Mrs. Weasley regarding Ginny. Nothing big, though.

Well, this is my longest chapter yet. I did say in earlier notes the chapters would be getting longer the further into the story we got. And to think chapters 4 and 5 were originally only supposed to be one chapter. I hadn't expected to go into so much detail about the train ride, but oh well. Hopefully it made a better chapter.

Now, as far as I know, Hermione's parents have no official names, so I hope you'll forgive me for inventing them. I decided to use Hermione's middle name for her mother and as for her father... well, Richard just sounded right.

Unlike other witches and wizards, Muggle-borns don't just get their first Hogwarts letter in the mail; they'd think it was a joke or something. No, their letters are always delivered personally by a member of the staff (like with Tom Riddle). I looked long and hard for any information regarding who deliverd Hermione's letter, but couldn't find anything, so I settled on McGonagall.

When Harry's explaining to the Grangers how magic works, well that's just how I see it, and since Harry's the one explaining it, it's probably just how he sees it, too. He isn't necessarily right. So, if your views and opinions about magic in the HP world differ from this, please don't give me a hard time about it. If this is simply WRONG (that is, if JK has actually made a better and more accurate description of the workings of magic), please let me know.

You may have noticed that Harry is immediately attracted to Ginny. Well, since this isn't the same person as in the books, and because he already knows he and Ginny are supposed to end up together, I figured something like this would probably happen.

As for the Sorting Hat, well were you really expecting it not to notice that something was wrong? And no, it did not sort Harry into Gryffindor just because it was supposed to. Harry really does have many of the qualities required for Gryffindor.

Finally, I'd like to thank my readers yet again, especially those who have left constructive and/or positive comments. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask in your comments. See ya next time.


	6. Chapter 5: A Lesson Learned

**Chosen - a Harry Potter fanfic**

By Anton B. Ingibjartsson, AKA dragonwrath7

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. I am not JK Rowling.

This story was partly influenced and inspired by the fanfic _In The Words Of Ginevra Molly Potter_, by _TheJealousOne_.

THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS TO ALL THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THEM AND DON'T WANT THE EXPERIENCE RUINED FOR YOU, REFRAIN FROM READING FURTHER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

**Chapter Five****: A Lesson Learned**

_Please,_ thought Harry, _don't put me in Slytherin. Please!_

"Slytherin," said the Sorting Hat calmly, "is not the only path to greatness. Putting you in Slytherin would greatly damage your chances of completing your mission. There is, in fact, only one house here that will suit you."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Classes began the next day. Harry was quite happy to discover that magic was not as difficult as he presumed. In fact, he seemed especially gifted at it. The only person who was quicker to learn spells than him was Hermione. Only one type of spells gave him trouble; curses. He wondered if the Trinity Wand had anything to do with that, as Ollivander had said it might not be capable of certain spells. When Ron was the only one of the trio who couldn't perform a certain spell, both Harry and Hermione tried to help him, but Ron didn't seem to like that. This was often because Hermione's type of help generally included correcting Ron in her bossy voice, which could be very annoying. Whenever Ron lost his patience with Hermione, Harry gave her a light scolding and tried to convince her not to be so bossy. This usually had the result of putting Hermione in a bad mood for the rest of the day, during which she wouldn't talk to Harry or Ron. Ron's bad mood seemed to vanish during this time, and Hermione always came back the next day in perfectly good spirits.

Harry made sure to spend at least a portion of his free time in the library studying useful spells he wouldn't learn in the classrooms. He quickly mastered the relatively simple healing spell Episkey, and then went on to study the theory of Occlumency, the art of closing your mind to intruders. He found that with enough training, you could always know when someone was trying to read your thoughts or take over your mind, to which you replied by closing your mind and focusing specifically on not thinking about anything at all.

The time Harry spent in the library was often shared by Hermione, but Ron seemed to think it was a waste of time, and generally did not join them. This worried Harry; Ron was supposed to have become his best friend, but instead he spent almost all his time with Hermione. He didn't complain, though. Having a friend, any friend, was a huge improvement over his life before all this.

Harry's worst subject turned out to be Astronomy. Each Wednesday at midnight he found himself looking at the starry sky through a telescope, trying and failing to memorize the names and attributes of various stars, planets and moons. He found Herbology difficult but interesting, whereas he considered it quite a feat if he managed to stay awake through an entire History of Magic class. He did fairly well in Transfiguration, and was the first student besides Hermione to turn his match into a needle. Charms, however, seemed to be his best subject. He usually managed to perform any charm almost as soon as he'd seen Professor Flitwick do it. Hermione was always a little ahead of him, though.

And then there was Defense against the Dark Arts. The way Professor Quirrell taught it seemed like a waste of time, and Harry didn't even bother listening to him. Instead, he used this time to plan ahead. How should he stop Quirrell from getting the Philosopher's Stone? He could, of course, wait for the right time and just play through the events from the book, but that seemed a bit too risky. He knew now that some changes he made would affect events that didn't even seem related, like how changing things in the hut on the rock had almost prevented him from getting to King's Cross. He was no good at chess, and to get past the chessboard challenge he'd need Ron, but he couldn't be sure Ron would play the game the same way he did in the book; too much had been changed between the two of them. Plus, he had no guarantee he'd survive a duel with Quirrell. In the book, it had almost killed him. He didn't dare go to Dumbledore to tell him Voldemort was hiding on the backside of Professor Quirrell's head. He wasn't sure he could trust Dumbledore not to read his mind, and his skill at Occlumency wasn't nearly good enough to keep someone like Dumbledore out.

Out of all his subjects, the one he hated the most was Potions. Not because he was bad at it, but because Professor Snape's feelings for him were nothing short of Hate with a capital H. He had been expecting it, but that didn't make it any easier. Snape did not seem to hate him any less no matter how polite he was or how hard he tried to stay out of trouble.

"Potter!"

"Yes, Professor?"

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"The Draught of Living Death, sir."

Snape raised an eyebrow but did not comment. Instead he continued the questioning.

"Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"In the stomach of a goat, sir, though I'd much prefer to just get one from your cupboard, sir."

Harry couldn't resist that last part, and a few people laughed. Snape, however, did not seem to find this funny.

"Very clever, Potter. So tell me, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"There isn't one, Professor. Monkshood and wolfsbane are two names of the same plant, which is also called aconite."

His answer did not seem to please Snape. On the contrary, he seemed to think Harry was making fun of him.

"Five points from Gryffindor."

Seamus Finnigan, a fellow Gryffindor student, did not think this was fair.

"What? You're _subtracting_ points because he answered your questions correctly!?"

"That's another five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Finnigan, now be quiet. And you, _sit down_!"

He was looking at Hermione, who had not put her hand down since he asked Harry the first question, and by now had even stood up from her chair to reach higher with her arm. Harry wondered why she still had her arm raised, now the questions were over. Hermione did as she was told, but did not lower her hand. Snape ignored her and continued the class. When they started working on their potions, Hermione had no choice but to lower her hand, as she needed both of them to work with. She and Harry were paired together. Ron paired with Dean Thomas.

About half the lesson went by without incident, as they listened to Snape criticize everyone except Malfoy. Then Harry saw something that made him jump forward and grab Neville Longbottom's arm.

"DON'T!"

Everyone looked around at them. Neville had been about to add porcupine quills to his potion, but now looked at Harry in shock.

"W-what's wrong, Harry!?"

"Cauldron _off _the fire _before_ you add the quills, or you'll end up in the hospital wing!"

Snape walked up to them. The look he gave Harry made it quite clear he was not impressed.

"You shouldn't be interfering in other people's schoolwork, Potter. Perhaps you thought it would make you look good to save your little friend? That's another point from Gryffindor."

"What!?" said Harry, outraged. "I just averted a disaster!"

"Don't contradict me, Potter. One more point from Gryffindor, and be thankful it isn't more."

After the lesson, Harry decided to pay Hagrid a visit. He had been surprised when Hedwig had not turned up that morning, as he'd been quite sure Hagrid was supposed to have sent him a letter inviting him for a visit. He supposed this had to do with something he had changed, but couldn't imagine what. When he told Hermione and Ron where he was going, Ron asked to come along but Hermione said she needed to spend some time in the library.

"What, again?" asked Ron incredulously. "You are such a bookworm."

"If she's a bookworm," said Harry, "then what am I? I spend even more time in the library."

"Yeah, you'd think you were studying for a major exam or something."

Hermione and Ron both looked at Harry, as if expecting him to explain himself.

"Well," said Harry after a pause, "maybe I'll see you in the library later."

Hermione smiled and ran off with a wave. Ron did not seem happy.

When Harry and Ron were almost at Hagrid's cabin, the door opened and a man stepped out. It wasn't Hagrid. Harry stopped, uncertain. He had not expected to find himself in this man's presence so soon.

Albus Dumbledore stood in the doorway and smiled sadly.

"Ah, I see you already have two visitors, Hagrid."

"Err- Hello, professor."

Ron said nothing. Harry looked at him and saw he was a bit uncomfortable.

"Good afternoon, Harry. Is it indeed safe to presume you have come here to visit your friend?"

"Yes, sir. Err- is Hagrid okay?"

"I'm afraid he has developed a slight head cold."

"Couldn't madam Pomfrey just..."

"She could."

Harry waited, but Dumbledore did not elaborate. Instead he bid them farewell and walked past them toward the castle. Harry and Ron watched him leave, then turned towards each other and raised their eyebrows.

"Mental," said Ron.

"Something like that," replied Harry.

They went to the door of the cabin, which was still open. When they looked inside and saw Hagrid's enormous figure, Harry knew Dumbledore had not been completely truthful.

Hagrid wasn't sick; he'd been crying. Harry knocked lightly against the door.

Hagrid looked up.

"Oh... Hello, Harry."

"Err- Hi, Hagrid. This is Ron Weasley."

"Another Weasley, eh?"

Hagrid was clearly trying to keep things light and friendly, but tears were still running down his cheeks.

"Hagrid, what's wrong?"

"Nuttin', I jus' have a cold."

Harry and Ron looked at each other. Ron seemed very uncomfortable. Hagrid wiped his tears away forcibly and blew his nose into a huge handkerchief. He attempted to smile, but it didn't look very convincing.

"Hagrid, please. What is it?"

Hagrid hesitated. He looked at Harry, then Ron, and then out the door.

"Friend of yours?"

Harry and Ron looked out the door and saw Hermione walking hesitantly towards the cabin.

"I thought you were going to the library," said Ron when she got close enough to hear.

"Well, I changed my mind."

Hagrid tried again to pretend he was in a good mood and started making tea. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down and all three of them stared at Hagrid, who was clearly miserable.

"Mr. Hagrid," said Hermione, "is something the matter?"

"That's what I'd like to know," said Harry.

"Yeah," added Ron. "Come on, Hagrid. Tell us."

Even Fang the boarhound seemed to be miserable, but Harry thought he was simply emulating his master's feelings. Fang felt bad because Hagrid felt bad.

"I've just got a cold. Tha's all."

"No you don't," said Harry firmly. "Please, Hagrid. I'm your friend. I want to know."

Hagrid turned to them and seemed to be looking them over, deciding whether he could trust them or not. Finally, he sat down and stared at the floor. Fang went over to him and Hagrid scratched him absent-mindedly.

"I- I had this three-headed dog," he began, each word seemed to cause him pain and a tear ran down the left side of his beard.

"Fluffy?" said Harry.

Hagrid looked up.

"How do you know abou' Fluffy?"

"How do you _think_ I know about Fluffy?"

Hagrid stared at him, apparently thinking, and then he seemed to come around.

"Oh, yeah. Seer. I forgot. So- So d' yeh know what happened to 'im?"

Harry shook his head slowly, and felt as though his insides were freezing up. What could possibly have happened to Fluffy to make Hagrid cry like this?

"He's- he's- he's..." but apparently Hagrid couldn't finish the sentence.

"Dead?" asked Harry, feeling his heart slow to a stop.

Hagrid broke down completely and sobbed openly in front of them. Ron looked like he didn't know what to do, but Hermione stood up and immediately began trying to comfort him. Harry just sat there and stared into space as he felt his insides vanish completely.

_What did I change? What did I do wrong?_

_What makes you think you did anything wrong?_

_This wasn't supposed to happen. Fluffy's supposed to guard the Philosopher's Stone. How can he be dead?_

_Someone must have killed him to get to the stone. Good thing they can't get the stone if they're intending to use it. Dumbledore's protection, remember?_

_But that protection requires the Mirror of Erised. According to the books, he won't move the mirror down there anytime soon._

_Don't panic! Dumbledore was just here, remember? I think we can trust him to take care of this. He'll probably add extra protection to the place._

_I hope you're right._

Harry got up and helped Hermione try to comfort Hagrid. Ron got up too, but went to tend the tea. When Harry and Hermione had successfully calmed Hagrid down somewhat, they sat back down and Ron poured tea for everyone.

They spent an hour talking to Hagrid and making sure he was in fairly good spirits before leaving him. On their way back to the castle, Hermione told them she'd best get up to the library, and asked Harry to join her.

"Sorry, Hermione, I'm not in the mood right now."

"Yeah, let's go up to the common room," said Ron. "Think you can beat me at Wizard's Chess, Harry?"

"I doubt it, but..."

"Hold it! If you're not going to the library, shouldn't you at least get started on your homework?" said Hermione, suddenly stern.

"You, Hermione," said Ron, "have got rules and homework on the brain."

Of course, this did not go over well with Hermione. Without another word, she strode away in the direction of the library.

"Why do you always have to be like this?" asked Harry.

"Because she's a bloody nightmare!" answered Ron angrily. "I don't see how you can stand to hang with her."

Harry didn't like Ron's words one bit, but he said nothing. He knew trying to prevent Ron and Hermione from fighting was like trying to stop the sun from setting.

When they got up to the common room, Harry was in no mood to play chess, so instead he got started on his homework. This seemed to irritate Ron a great deal. As Harry was taking out his homework, Ron went up the stairs to the Dormitory, muttering something that sounded very much like 'figures'.

Some time later, Ron came to find Harry in the library and told him grudgingly that he'd better take a look at the notice in the common room, which displayed the date of their first flying lesson.

"But then, you already knew, didn't you?"

Ron's tone made it perfectly clear he was still upset.

"I didn't know the date," retorted Harry irritably.

Hermione, who sat opposite Harry, looked up from her book and stared at the pair of them.

"What is the matter with you two?"

"Nothing," said Harry and Ron in unison.

"No, honestly-"

"He's angry because I took your side in that argument the other day," said Harry.

"What argu-" began Hermione, who had clearly forgotten about the incident altogether.

"You _always_ take her side!" yelled Ron, which caused everyone in the library to stare at him and earned him a disapproving 'shush' from Madam Pince, the librarian.

"Well, of course!" yelled Harry right back. "She's my best friend!"

Ron and Harry were staring angrily at each other, ignoring Madam Pince, who looked as if she was about to throw them out. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Hermione couldn't help giving him a small smile.

"Well, great then," said Ron. "You two bookworms will make a fine couple!"

With that, he strode off. Harry dropped back into his chair and pretended to continue reading 'Weapons of the Mind', a book about Occlumency and Legilimency. Hermione's smile had vanished and she watched Ron leave the library before staring worriedly at Harry, but she said nothing. Eventually, people stopped staring and went back to whichever books they were reading.

Harry awoke early on the day of the first flying lesson, and the memory of his argument with Ron was the first thought to enter his waking mind. He hadn't planned this. He was angry at Ron, but they were supposed to have become best buds by now. He couldn't believe he wasn't on talking terms with Ron because he took Hermione's side in a small argument that Hermione had forgotten all about anyway. Though he felt he was right and Ron was wrong, he decided to try and make peace. Holding a grudge over something so insignificant was just plain stupid. He turned toward Ron's bed, but it was empty.

He was halfway down the stairs to the common room when he heard raised voices.

"You're being stupid!" yelled Hermione.

"Well, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you? Who's smart and who isn't?" yelled Ron.

"Just go and apologize! Then you can be friends again!"

"Apologize? For what? It's Harry who-"

"Harry who what? What happened, exactly!?"

"Harry took your side!"

"Took my side in what?"

"He ALWAYS takes your side!"

"Always takes my side in WHAT!?"

"Don't pretend you haven't noticed!"

"I'm not pretending! What's Harry done that's so horrible?"

"You- you're just defending him because you fancy him!"

Harry was at the bottom of the stairs now, and saw that Ron and Hermione were standing on either side of the common room. Ron was fuming, but that was nothing next to Hermione, who looked like she was about to explode.

"How DARE you!? I don't fancy Harry!" screamed Hermione.

"Yeah? Could've fooled me! You two are ALWAYS together!"

"Yes, we are! That's what friends do!"

"Friends? Who'd want to be friends with YOU!? You keep yapping about this and that that you read in some books, you keep forcing your own ideas about everything on everyone else, and you stick to the rules like stink to a troll! Harry even told me he only hangs around you because you're the smartest student in our year!"

"That's not what I said!" yelled Harry, now very angry. They looked at him, realizing his presence for the first time.

"Well, it's what you meant!" yelled Ron angrily at Harry. "How can you even stand to be around that... that..." Apparently, he could not think of anything bad enough to say.

"...that _hag_!?"

Harry was neither aware of reaching into his pocket for his wand nor uttering the incantation for the banishing charm for the first time; all he knew was that Ron was suddenly thrown against the wall, Harry's wand pointing at him, Hermione screaming in shock. As soon as Ron had recovered from the blow, he stared incredulously at Harry.

"Don't EVER call her that again!" yelled Harry furiously. "Get lost!"

Ron did not need to be told twice.

"Fine!" he yelled and half ran out of the common room through the portrait hole. They heard a loud bang and the Fat Lady yelled angrily after him not to damage her frame.

Harry looked at Hermione and felt his anger vanish at the sight of her teary eyes. He finally lowered his wand and put it back in his pocket. Hermione ran to him, crying, and hugged him.

"You're both so _stupid_!" she cried, punching him in the ribs mid-hug. Harry let her; she didn't punch that hard and Harry felt like he deserved it anyway. He knew this wasn't really his fault; it was Ron who'd started it and who wouldn't drop it. Even so, he felt responsible. None of this would have happened if he hadn't changed things, and he felt bad about attacking Ron, but he couldn't just stand there and do nothing while his best friend was being insulted. Not even for Ronald Weasley. And right then, Harry thought he'd never be able to forgive Ron.

Despite the great negative influence the argument had had on all three of them, it did have a positive side-effect; none of them could take their minds off the argument long enough to feel really nervous about their first flying lesson.

"Well, what are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up," barked Madam Hooch at the students when she arrived for their flying lesson. Nobody dared disobey. Harry and Hermione stood next to each other, but Ron made sure to keep a clear distance from the pair.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom and say, 'Up!'"

"UP!"

Very few brooms obeyed. Harry's broom rose into his hand hesitantly, perhaps sensing his slight fear of heights. Ron's broom flew up at his second attempt, but Hermione's just kept rolling around. Harry advised her in a whisper to try making it a request rather than an order. Hermione immediately changed her tone and the broom rose into her waiting hand.

"Now, when I blow my whistle," said Madam Hooch after showing them the proper grip on their broom, "you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle – three – two –"

As expected, a very nervous Neville kicked off before Madam Hooch even said 'one'. Even as Madam Hooch called after him, he shot high into the air, clearly to scared to control his broom. Harry reached for his wand. As everyone looked on, Neville lost his grip, fell off the broom, plummeted towards the solid ground and – bumped off it like it was a trampoline. Madam Hooch looked around and saw Harry, whose wand was still pointing at the ground where Neville lay, unharmed.

"Cushioning Charm, Potter?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Wand use is strictly forbidden during flying lessons. One point from Gryffindor."

Harry nodded and stowed his wand away. He had been expecting a rule like that to be in place, but the fact that Madam Hooch only took one point and didn't even give him detention showed him that she approved of his actions.

His feeling of relief did not last long, however, because only a short while later he discovered something that was distinctly different between him and his book counterpart. He was a _horrible_ flyer. The only one who did worse than him was Neville. Harry was in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Sure, he'd never been big on sports, but the real Harry loved Quidditch. The fact that he couldn't fly meant that he'd probably never be a Quidditch player. This would certainly change things.

At the end of the lesson, Madam Hooch gathered the brooms and left ahead of the students. As Harry walked towards the castle with the other Gryffindors, he heard Malfoy shouting something to his fellow Slytherins behind them.

"Look! It's the stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

Harry was in no mood to deal with Malfoy right then, so he simply turned around and aimed his wand carefully.

"Accio!"

Neville's Remembrall, which had undoubtedly fallen out of his pocket when he fell, flew out of Malfoy's hand and into Harry's. He wordlessly handed the little ball to Neville and walked on into the school. Malfoy, however, was not going to let him just walk away. Out of sheer instinct, Harry dived forwards just in time to avoid a burning hot shower of wand sparks and swiftly turned around to face his enemy.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Malfoy's body went rigid and he fell backwards. Harry got up, brushed himself off and put the wand back in his pocket. Then he looked down at Malfoy.

"Trust me, Malfoy, you don't want to mess with me."

Malfoy's body was already losing its rigidity by the time Harry turned around and walked away. Harry wasn't surprised; the spell he had used was a curse, the one type of magic he had trouble with. As he and Hermione left the Slytherins' sight, Harry made a mental note to study methods of using charms offensively, since they were his specialty.

For the next few weeks, Harry spent most of his time studying. He and Hermione sat together in the library for hours a day, but as it turned out they both spent half their time there doing absolutely nothing. Hermione kept looking at Harry or the door or simply staring into space with a rather sad look on her face. Harry was quite sure she was hoping Ron would come into the library to apologize or Harry would go and apologize to Ron. Although she never mentioned Ron or the argument he had with Harry, she didn't seem to have changed her view on the situation and clearly still though Harry and Ron were just being stupid. Harry had a very hard time concentrating on his books, because his thoughts continuously wandered between Ron, Scabbers and Ginny.

Whenever his thoughts strayed near Ron, Harry would shake his head and make an extra effort to concentrate on his work.

He did think about Scabbers a lot. Had he made the right decision? Wouldn't it be better to just grab Scabbers and take him to Dumbledore? But no, a voice in his head kept telling him to wait, and out of simple cowardice, he agreed. If he tried to take Scabbers to Dumbledore, Ron would think he'd gone mad. If he went to Dumbledore, there was no guarantee he wouldn't get his mind read, either by Dumbledore or Snape. He couldn't risk them finding out he was from another world, nor could he share his knowledge of his future with them. He had already gotten in trouble for interfering with the timeline. Besides, he couldn't be sure that Pettigrew's reappearance would be enough to get Sirius out of prison. He had to wait until Sirius escaped.

And then there was Ginny. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about the pretty face he had been caught staring at the day he met Hermione. A part of him sometimes wondered if he only liked her because he was supposed to, but another part kept reminding him that his book counterpart had not fallen for Ginny until years later.

One day he was yet again in the library with Hermione, supposedly continuing his study of Occlumency, but in reality thinking of Ginny and letting his imagination run quite free. He barely registered the fact that Hermione had stood up. She said something about going to the bathroom before dinner, and strode off. She was already out of the library by the time Harry realized he'd better put the book away and go down to the Great Hall to eat.

On his way there, he ran into the one person he did not want to see. Ron suddenly appeared out of a secret passage behind a banister. They both froze and stared at each other. Harry could feel his anger welling up again, even though Ron was looking quite apologetic. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Harry, deciding to ignore him, walked on.

"Harry, wait."

Harry did not stop, but he heard Ron scuttling behind him.

"I need to talk to you."

Harry pretended not to hear him.

"Harry, please."

Harry could feel himself stopping abruptly, but he did not speak or turn around.

"Harry, I... I've been a git," said Ron in a half-whisper.

"Sorry?" replied Harry, though he could hear Ron perfectly well.

"I said I've been a git," said Ron a bit louder.

"Gee, you think so?" said Harry sarcastically.

"Yeah, and... um... I'm- I'm sorry."

"Glad to hear it," said Harry, his anger rising. "Have you told Hermione you're sorry?"

"Err, no."

"Then why are you talking to me?" said Harry furiously, aware that he was almost shouting. He turned around to let Ron see just how angry he was. "How come you're not apologizing to Hermione?"

"I didn't think... she's not..."

"Hermione," said Harry firmly and angrily, "is _not_ a hag!"

"I know... I'm sorry-"

"Why the HELL are you apologizing to ME!?"

Harry turned back around so he wouldn't have to look at Ron. He did not want Ron's guilty face to lessen his fury. He was quite determined to remain angry at Ron at least until he had the decency to apologize to Hermione. Possibly longer.

"Get lost," he finally said, and walked away.

"Harry-" began Ron.

"Get lost," repeated Harry loudly and lengthened his stride, but Ron was running behind him.

"Harry, please!"

"Apparently," said Harry angrily, coming to a stop, "you didn't learn your lesson last time!"

He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Ron's chest.

"GET LOST!"

Ron looked frightened, but didn't move. Eventually Harry lowered his wand and walked away. This time, Ron did not follow.

A few minutes later, he arrived at the Great Hall and came to a stop. As he stared into the hall, his insides went cold. Thousands of bats were fluttering to and fro all around the Great Hall and there were flying pumpkins with carved-out faces and candles inside. In his anger at Ron, Harry had forgotten that it was Halloween, and assuming Quirrel had not made any changes to his plan, there would be a troll loose in the castle tonight. He quickly scanned the Hogwarts table, but Ron was not there, nor was Hermione.

He had to warn them. He had to get them to safety. He ran towards the nearest girls' toilet and saw Lavender Brown coming out of it.

"Lavender! Is Hermione in there?"

"She was," answered Lavender, looking at Harry in a very questioning way.

"When did she leave?"

"Just a couple of minutes ago. Said she was going up to Gryffindor tower with her schoolbag before going down to the feast. Harry, what's the matter?"

Harry had no time to explain why he was so panicky. He ran full speed towards Gryffindor tower, where the Fat Lady informed him that he'd just missed Hermione and that she had not seen Ron since he left for the feast. Now Harry was starting to really panic. He asked which way Hermione had gone and then sprinted off.

Harry's heart was pounding painfully in his chest, as if it were saying _don't you dare let them die_! He ran like he'd never run before, checking every secret passage on his way back to the Great Hall.

Suddenly, Harry tripped over a halberd that should be held by one of the suits of armor and his face hit the floor painfully. He could hear cackling in the distance and cursed Peeves under his breath. When he got up, however, he heard something else.

"I'm really sorry."

"Why are you telling me? Go apologize to Harry."

"I tried. He told me to apologize to you. Wouldn't even listen to me."

Silence.

"I'm sorry I called you a... you-know-what. I'll never use that word again, I swear."

Harry took a step towards the voices but yelped when he suddenly experienced a shooting pain in his leg. He seemed to have twisted his ankle. He let himself fall against the wall and then hopped one-legged towards the voices, using the wall for support. Apparently his yelp had not gone unnoticed, because a moment later Hermione came around the corner with Ron right behind her.

"Harry?" said Hermione when she saw him. "Are you alright?"

He didn't answer, but leaned against the wall and let himself slide to the floor.

"What happened to you?" asked Ron.

Harry pointed at the halberd.

"Peeves."

Hermione started to fuss over him, but Harry was looking at Ron.

"Ron, I've been an idiot."

Hermione stopped and looked at Harry and then at Ron.

"Join the club," said Ron.

There was a few seconds' silence, during which Hermione's gaze kept moving between Ron and Harry.

"Sorry," said both Ron and Harry at the same time. They both smiled.

"You're so stupid, both of you!" said Hermione, teary-eyed but smiling.

"So what are you doing here?" asked Ron. "The feast can't be over yet."

And Harry remembered why he'd been looking for them.

"There's a troll!" said Harry. "I was looking for you because there's a troll loose in the castle. We have to get back to-"

He suddenly went deathly quiet. Ron and Hermione froze too. It was clear they had also heard what he heard.

_Thump_.

Harry quickly stood up, somehow managing to ignore the pain in his leg.

_Thump_.

The sound was getting closer, and Harry had a feeling he knew what it meant.

_Thump_.

Hermione moved closer to Harry and firmly grabbed his wrist. Apparently she was even more frightened than he was.

_Thump_.

It was coming from just around the bend. Ron, though now pointing his wand in the direction of the sound, had moved behind Harry. Harry drew his wand, but could not think what to do. He was too frightened to think clearly.

_Thump_.

Around the corner came a troll. The thumping noise was the sound of its steps. It looked at them and raised its enormous club.

"Ron," said Harry, trying to sound calm but failing miserably. "Take Hermione and run."

Ron seemed to like the idea. He grabbed Hermione's hand and tried to drag her away, but Hermione held on to Harry and wouldn't let go. The troll was advancing on them menacingly.

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine. Just go."

But she didn't, and now Ron seemed to realize that Harry couldn't run.

"Hermione," said Ron in a terrified voice, "grab Harry."

She hadn't let go of him yet, but at Ron's words she strengthened her hold. Harry doubted he'd ever be able to feel his left arm again. Ron let go of Hermione and grabbed Harry's other arm.

They ran. Hermione and Ron carried Harry between them, ignoring his protests that they couldn't outrun the troll this way. Indeed, the troll did not seem to take well to its victims trying to escape, and was now running after them.

_Thump – thump – thump – thump_.

Harry didn't know what to do. His panic was making it impossible to think.

_Thump – thump – thump – thump_.

There was nothing he could do. The troll was going to catch them. They were all going to die.

_Thump – thump – thump – thump_.

Now a new feeling took over; something more powerful than panic. He was not going to let his friends die.

_Thump – thump – thump – thump_.

And through his panic he heard a clear voice from somewhere inside his mind.

_Think_, said the voice. _Focus!_

He raised his wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

In retrospect, Harry would have said that it _sort of_ worked. The club was lifted out of the troll's hand, but the fact that Harry was being dragged away made it difficult to control the spell. The club fell heavily to the floor behind the troll. Ron, Hermione and the troll were all surprised enough to stop running. Harry shook himself free from his friends' grasps and prepared to finish what he'd started, but he'd forgotten about his twisted ankle. The shooting pain caught him by surprise and he fell forwards. The wand flew out of his hand and slid on the floor towards the troll. When he looked back up he saw his wand between the troll's legs.

The troll, however, seemed completely uninterested in the small wooden stick. It was stupidly looking all around for its club. Finally, it turned around and saw it lying a few feet away.

Harry acted. Once again ignoring his pain and his friends' pleas that they keep running, he got up and jumped, sliding on the floor after his wand. The troll was facing away and did not see him slide between its legs and grasp the little stick. Not until Harry got up right in front of it did the troll notice him. The troll bent down to pick Harry up. Harry turned away from it, pointed his wand and cried the incantation.

"Accio!"

The giant club flew off the floor towards him. Harry threw himself to the floor and the club hit the troll straight in the face. It fell backwards and hit the floor with an almighty crash.

**Author's Notes:**

This used to be chapter 6, but I've had to change the number of each chapter since I combined the first two chapters into one.

Well, that's another chapter up. It sure took a lot longer than I expected. Sorry about that, but at least it's fairly long. Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure it's my longest chapter yet.

Ron seems to have an easier time apologizing here than in the books, and that's because I didn't think he'd become such a git until he'd gotten to know Harry and Hermione a little better. I'm partially basing this assumption on certain details from 'In the words of Ginevra Molly Potter' (mentions of how he used to be before he came to Hogwarts). As for how easily he gets angry at Harry and Hermione, that part can be explained in one word; jealousy.

I was a bit worried that I was making Snape too evil, but when it comes to Snape, is there really such a thing as 'too evil'? I don't believe so. I also had him ask the exact same questions as he does in the book, and some of you are going to think he might have asked something different after hearing Harry's first answer, but I say he didn't really have any reason to change which questions he asks.

Why did Hermione keep her hand raised? Well, it has to do with a detail that I intend to introduce in future chapters so I can't really tell you yet. Sorry.

Would Dumbledore lie? It wasn't much of a lie, really, but I wondered the same thing. The thing is, he knew Harry and Ron would see for themselves that Hagrid had been crying the moment they saw his face. Also, I thought Hagrid might ask him to lie for him about something like this. That's how I feel about it. Sue me.

Why would I kill Fluffy? Well, you weren't expecting it, were you? Some of you may be thinking that Harry hasn't changed anything that would cause something like that, but I say: 'Says who?'

Now, my characters have been using rather advanced spells, including the summoning and banishing charms (both of which aren't taught until the fourth year). Hermione and Harry are the top students in Charms and other such classes so they should have an easier time performing advanced magic. Also, magic is a lot easier to use when you're angry or scared, remember? They won't have such an easy time performing those spells under normal conditions. Not yet, anyway.

My Harry is a horrible flyer. That means he won't be playing Quidditch. Deal with it.

Brooms have personalities. That's why they can tell when you're scared or nervous (see the book). I remember the film Hermione when she first tried to tell her broom 'up'. She kept repeating it in a bossy and impatient manner and the broom just rolled around. That's where the idea came that the broom would rather do what you say when you make it a request rather than an order.

Anyone who says Harry shouldn't have such a bad temper has not been reading this from the start. The reason is simple: My Harry is not the same as the book Harry (or movie Harry for that matter). Sure he overreacted a little, but that's just who he is. Hermione is his best friend after all (not to mention the first real friend he's had in a very long time).

Now, remember the halberd that Harry tripped over? Initially I intended Harry to find out that the troll had actually pushed the halberd down when it went down that hall earlier, but I skipped that. Harry was supposed to think it was Peeves at first anyway. I don't think Peeves minds taking the blame for this.

Well, thanks to all my readers.

Oh, and I've started school now, so my time on this story will be limited. Even so, I have no intention of abandoning it, so don't worry about that.

**QUESTIONS**** AND ANSWERS**:

Those of you who have reviewed the previous chapters have sometimes asked questions. It's about time you got some answers. I'm afraid I can't answer some questions on account of spoilers. If I can't give a spoiler-free answer, I'm just going to say 'No comment'. Sorry.

**Q: ****...if Harry is pretending to be a seer, then why would he have to wait to release his Godfather from jail, he'd just stun Scabbers and hand him to Dumbledore.**

A: I'm not surprised to be asked this question, but If you read this chapter, you'll see Harry's reasons for his decisions. If you disagree with Harry (and me), then you'll just have to live with it. Sorry, but that's how I feel about it, and that's how Harry feels about it. End of story.

**Q: ****Why would Ron have gone to Harry's carriage?**

A:Why wouldn't he? Ron's family is now somewhat friendly towards Harry so can you think of a reason he wouldn't go to Harry's compartment? I don't think the book Ron went into the compartment just to find out if he really was Harry Potter. He said 'everywhere else is full', which is probably mostly true. I doubt Ron would want to sit with older students, for one thing. I can accept your claim that I stuck a little too much to canon in chapter 5, but I'm also starting to think you're misunderstanding the concept of the butterfly effect. Just because Harry's meeting with the Weasleys was different doesn't mean that Ron wouldn't sit with him on the train; it just means that he MIGHT NOT. It means that you can't predict the effect of your actions. Also, some things cannot be changed. For an example, see the 'Time Machine' movie. I can promise you that there will be a great deal of change, but some things will still remain. For instance, I have every intention of keeping the Triwizard Tournament, though whether or not Harry participates is an entirely different question.

**Q: ****Why does Harry need to be with Ginny...just cos it was in the books? He is not Harry as you pointed out in his conversation with the sorting hat, so why would he feel the same way about a woman?**

A: Again, why wouldn't he? Snape and James loved the same woman. Being different people doesn't mean you can't love the same person. Also, the book Harry didn't fall in love with Ginny until book six. My Harry falls in love with her right off the bat. No, Harry did not fall in love with Ginny just because it's in the books. I addressed this somewhat in the above chapter.

**Q: ****Why not Hermione?**

A: No comment. Sorry.

**Q: ****...what happend to the original Harry? Shouldn't he be allowed to have his own live?**

A: No comment.

**Q: ****You also mentioned about the four elements of his wand. Are you trying hint at his affinity for those elements (elemental)??**

A: No, not really. I just thought it was cool. It helped me decide to make Ramora fin the third core. I had already decided on Auguray feather and Salamander heartstring, and I realized it would be cool to use the four elements. That's all there is to it.

**Q: ****What was Harry's original name?**

A: I decided not to give him one. I might give him a name in the final chapters, but I probably won't. Those are ages away anyway. See, I couldn't name him Harry because it would completely ruin the point I made in chapter two.

Well, that's it. I'm still open for questions and when I get them I'll answer them in this manner.

See you next time.


	7. Chapter 6: Quirrel's Quarry

**Chosen - a Harry Potter fanfic**

By Anton B. Ingibjartsson, AKA dragonwrath7

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. I am not JK Rowling.

This story was partly influenced and inspired by the fanfic _In The Words Of Ginevra Molly Potter_, by _TheJealousOne_.

THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS TO ALL THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THEM AND DON'T WANT THE EXPERIENCE RUINED FOR YOU, REFRAIN FROM READING FURTHER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

**Chapter Six****: Quirrel's Quarry**

"Accio!"

The giant club flew off the floor towards him. Harry threw himself to the floor and the club hit the troll straight in the face. It fell backwards and hit the floor with an almighty crash.

For a few seconds, none of them dared to move. Harry even held his breath. Then the enormous relief accompanying their victory washed over them, and Harry slowly began to breathe.

"Is it dead?" asked Hermione timidly, as Ron cautiously made his way around the troll and helped Harry to his feet.

"I don't think-" began Harry, but he was suddenly interrupted.

"What is going on here!?"

Ron and Harry turned around at the sound and found themselves facing Professor McGonagall, accompanied by Professors Sprout and Flitwick. Ron let go of Harry, who cried out in pain from having to stand on his injured foot. Ron immediately grabbed him again.

"Evening, Professors," gasped Harry after mouthing a string of curses.

"Potter! Weasley! Why aren't you in the dormitory? Explain yourselves!"

"Excuse me, Professor-" began Hermione, and McGonagall seemed to notice her for the first time. "It was my fault-"

"No it wasn't!" said Harry. "It was mine. I knew about the troll beforehand and I forgot to warn you, and Hermione and Ron would have been at the feast if I hadn't been such a prat. I put their lives in danger."

Ron and Hermione both looked at him, but neither appeared to know what to say.

"And you decided to fight the troll instead of running?"

"I can't run, Professor, I've twisted my ankle. If Ron and Hermione hadn't been there to carry me away, the troll would probably have killed me."

McGonagall considered him for a moment, then sighed.

"Very well. That's five points from Gryffindor for your foolishness, Mr. Potter. As for you two," she looked at Ron and Hermione in turn, "I'm giving you each five points for saving your friend."

At this moment, Professors Snape and Quirrel came around the corner.

"Professor," said Ron, who seemed to sense danger from the pair, "can I take Harry to the Hospital Wing now?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasly, I think you'd better."

Hermione joined them and Harry found himself carried past the teachers by his two best friends.

"Out of interest, Potter," said Professor Snape with malice in his voice as the trio was passing him, "how did you defeat the troll?"

"Hover Charm," answered Harry, "followed by a Summoning Charm. Why do you ask, Professor?"

"Summoning Charm?" asked Professor Flitwick. "You performed a Summoning Charm, Potter?"

"Yeah, and I've seen Hermione do it too."

"But that's very advanced for your age," piped in Professor Sprout.

"We were under stress. I don't think we'll be able to repeat it in class. Not yet, anyway."

"And how," asked Snape, "did you use a Summoning Charm to defeat a troll?"

"I slid between its legs and stood between it and its club, which I'd ripped from its hand with the Hover Charm, summoned the club towards myself and the troll, and then threw myself to the floor."

"You could have been killed!" said Professor McGonagall.

"I could have," agreed Harry, "but the troll was catching up. If I hadn't acted, we'd all be dead."

"But-" began McGonagall, her nostrils flaring.

"_I know_, Professor."

Harry sighed and looked back at her.

"My friends come first."

They looked at each other for a few seconds before McGonagall relented.

"Very well, Potter. Off you go."

As the trio moved away, Harry could feel five pairs of eyes following them. One pair in particular; Quirrel had been facing away from them...

Harry no longer spent his time in Defense Against the Dark Arts to plan ahead; instead he focused his attention on Quirrel. There could be no doubt that Quirrel knew exactly how to get past Devil's Snare, he was probably a very good flyer who would have no trouble catching a flying key, he was smart enough to win a game of chess and get past Snape's potion puzzle, not to mention he himself brought the troll and would have no problem getting rid of it. And without Fluffy his way was clear, except for Dumbledore's protection; the Mirror of Erised. Still, if Quirrel had been able to dispose of Fluffy, he might be able to figure out the magic behind the mirror and find his way past it. The only reason Harry hadn't gone to check that the Philosopher's Stone was still there was that he was quite sure Quirrel would not make his move while Dumbledore was still in the school. Still, he wouldn't rest easy until he was sure the stone was well beyond Quirrel's reach.

He spent hours in the library, supposedly reading up on his History of Magic, but in truth pondering how he could best protect the stone. He was only vaguely aware of the text his eyes traveled over, barely registering that the chapter he was reading concerned how each of the school's common rooms were protected. There was something about how the portrait of the Fat Lady had replaced some kind of test of courage, but they had decided to change it on account of various nasty incidents concerning first-year students.

Suddenly, Harry jolted to attention when his eyes reached the bit about Ravenclaw's protection – the door would ask a question that you had to answer if you wanted to get inside.

It took Harry an hour to find what he needed and another two hours to learn the necessary spell, but it was quite a bit simpler than he'd ever imagined.

When he came down to dinner, Ron and Hermione both wanted to know why he was late, but Harry simply told them he'd taken a little detour.

Reassured, Harry was able to be exited over the coming Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Slytherin, just like any normal student. He'd never been a big sports fan, but this was different somehow. Quidditch was, after all, an exceptional sport. On the day of the game, Harry noticed the entire Gryffindor team sitting together at breakfast. They didn't exactly look happy. Harry wondered if it had something to do with their Seeker, Alicia Spinnet. He knew Alicia had been a reserve Chaser in the previous year, but he knew nothing about her Seeking abilities.

It was a disaster. The game only lasted ten minutes, during which Gryffindor scored five goals and Slytherin scored twelve goals. The torment ended when the Slytherin Seeker caught the Snitch before Alicia even noticed it. Final score: Gryffindor 50, Slytherin 270. No wonder the team had looked so sour.

A few days later, Harry was sitting in the library alone, studying up on healing spells. He'd just reached the part about the bone-mending charm when Hermione and Ron came to him, both looking determined.

"What's the matter?" asked Harry, completely bewildered.

"We want you to stop what you're doing," said Ron.

"Err- what?" Harry hadn't the slightest idea what they could possibly have against healing charms.

"Harry," said Hermione, "we know about the Philosopher's Stone."

Harry stared at her in open-mouthed amazement, unable to comprehend how she could possibly have found out about the stone. She looked quite uncomfortable with the look he was giving her. Ron cleared his throat, causing Harry's stare to shift to him instead.

"I overheard Hagrid talking to Professor McGonagall about it."

Harry understood. Hagrid had accidentally mentioned the stone out loud to McGonagall, Ron heard it and told Hermione, who had probably read up about it before talking to McGonagall, who, in turn, had assured her that the stone was perfectly safe and that they'd only get in trouble if they interfered. That's why they wanted him to stop looking for ways to protect the stone.

"Wait. How did you even know I was trying to protect the stone in the first place?"

"Duh, you've been studying like crazy," said Ron. "Hermione noticed that you seemed to be focusing on books concerning dueling and defense stuff."

"We can put two and two together, Harry," added Hermione. "We know you're a Seer and that you've probably seen something to do with the stone... Please stop this, Harry. You could get hurt. McGonagall assured us that the stone is safe!"

"Well," said Harry with a wry smile, "it is now."

"Potter!"

Harry looked at the library entrance and saw Professor McGonagall herself marching towards him.

"Professor McGonagall. What can I do for you?"

"I've just been to the forbidden corridor on the third floor-"

"Ah, yes," said Harry calmly, feeling quite Dumbledore-ish. "I imagine you ran into my little protection."

" '_Little protection_'? You cast the Seal of Ravenclaw on the trapdoor!"

"Well, I modified it a bit. We can hardly expect to keep the enemy out with mere logic, he's way too smart for that. I'd say it's safe to call this variation 'the Seal of Harry Potter.'"

Everyone else went quiet. Hermione and Ron were staring at Harry, apparently in awe. McGonagall seemed taken aback.

"The enemy? You know who's after the stone?"

Harry's expression became hard.

"Of course I know, Professor."

"Who is it then, Potter!?"

Harry was surprised. "You don't know?"

McGonagall didn't answer, but her face told him the truth. Dumbledore had not confided in her, perhaps because he was not certain himself. Harry looked into her eyes and his features became hard once again.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Ron didn't catch on, but Hermione and McGonagall froze. Hermione, looking very scared, whispered just loud enough for the other three to hear. Ron froze up when she spoke.

"You-know-who?"

"Who else? Honestly, do you think I'd be putting so much effort into protecting the stone if the person who was after it was just another wizard? No, I wouldn't bother at all if it wasn't him."

After he spoke, they all stood quietly looking at each other. Ron was staring at Harry, his expression a mixture of fear and respect. Hermione's eyes travelled between Harry and McGonagall, who were staring at each other.

"Potter," began Professor McGonagall, "I want you to come with me to the headmaster's-"

"There will be no need for that, Minerva."

They all turned, and Harry quickly shielded his mind with Occlumency, closing off all emotion. Albus Dumbledore stood before them. He stared at Harry with his piercing gaze and smiled.

"You can relax, Harry. I have no intention of reading your mind."

Harry was genuinely surprised.

_How did he know?_

Dumbledore turned to McGonagall.

"I have no intention of punishing Mr. Potter. I personally tested his spell, and it is every bit as powerful as the Seal of Ravenclaw. The questions he chose were also rather interesting. Mr. Potter certainly understands the world much better than Lord Voldemort-" everyone except Harry and Dumbledore flinched "-and I feel quite confident that our enemy will be unable to break through the Seal of Harry Potter."

He strode away, smiling serenely, apparently unaware that everyone was staring after him. Harry, feigning calmness, returned to his book and finished reading the description of the bone-mending charm. Everyone's gaze shifted to him instead.

"So, Potter," began McGonagall, regaining her posture. "What makes you so sure He Who Must Not Be Named will be unable to answer these questions of yours?"

Harry smiled, but did not look up from the book.

"With all due respect, Professor, were _you_ able to answer the questions?"

After that, Harry hardly ever let his guard down, keeping up with his Occlumency almost unconsciously. Every now and then, Hermione and Ron would bombard him with questions about his future and the nature of the Seal, but Harry was not forthcoming.

Christmas was fast approaching, and Harry's scar would not leave him alone. Voldemort must surely be very furious indeed if he was able to pain Harry like this even when he was protected by Occlumency . Soon the classes were over and most of the students were preparing to leave the castle for Christmas break. This only caused Harry to worry. Fewer people meant less protection for the stone. And indeed, the day the students left, the pain in his scar vanished. Harry couldn't help but think that only one thing could cause his pain to go away so swiftly; Voldemort knew how to get past the Seal.

Ron stayed in the castle with Harry, and they were both surprised to find that Hermione had decided to stay as well. The decision must have been quite sudden; Harry remembered seeing her with the departing students, but he was glad to have her. Ron was okay, but Hermione was his best friend. Harry noticed that Hermione seemed quieter and more reserved than usual, but didn't dwell on it. She was probably just worried about him. Harry, on the other hand, had other things to worry about. His scar should be hurting, he was sure of that.

He woke up on Christmas morning drenched in sweat. He'd had a horrible dream involving a man with horrifying snake-like features. It was how he had always imagined the face of Lord Voldemort. The man had stood and laughed over his dead body. In the aftermath of his nightmare, Harry's confidence in his own Seal was all but gone. He sat up and managed to calm himself somewhat. Ron was still asleep. Harry looked toward the base of his bed and saw a small pile of gifts. He unwrapped the one from Mrs. Weasley and put on his new sweater. He left the other packages alone for now and stepped out of bed. Ron snored quite loudly and was clearly still asleep. Harry looked at the time and decided it was safe to head down for an early breakfast. Surely a healthy meal would help him recover from the night's horrors.

When Harry reached the Great Hall, some of the teachers and a few students were already there. The food appeared just as he sat down at the Gryffindor table, and indeed, the courage that had nearly vanished in the night seemed to return somewhat with every bite he took. When he was quite full, he just sat there for a moment, allowing himself to relax. Ron and Hermione still had not come down to eat, but Harry wasn't too worried about that. Ron was undoubtedly still asleep and Hermione was surely unwrapping presents. Come to think of it, Hermione had been unusually quiet lately and Harry had seen very little of her over the Christmas break. As Harry began to wonder if she was avoiding him, his eyes moved over the room towards the teachers' table, and his gut wrenched. Dumbledore was not there, nor was Quirrel.

Professor McGonagall had evidently finished eating because she stood up and made her way out of the hall. As she passed him, Harry stopped her.

"Professor, may I ask where Professor Dumbledore is?"

"The headmaster is away, Potter."

"Away?"

"Yes, Potter. Away."

Harry didn't wait for an explanation. Panicking, he jumped to his feet and ran all the way back to the Common Room. If Voldemort knew how to get past the Seal, Harry was certain he would go after the stone as soon as Dumbledore left the castle. The fact that Quirrel was also absent was proof to Harry that he was getting ready to go after the stone, if he was not there already.

Hermione was in the Common Room when Harry arrived, but Harry wasted no time explaining his haste. He dashed straight up to his dormitory, where he proceeded directly to his tiny pile of presents. Ignoring Ron's questions, he picked up the Christmas card which was on top of the pile and, without even looking at it, shoved it into his pocket before ripping away the paper concealing Dumbledore's gift; the Invisibility Cloak. He threw the cloak over himself and vanished from sight just as he was leaving the room, causing confused shouts from Ron. He heard Ron chase him down the stairs. When he was halfway towards the Common Room entrance, he heard Hermione's voice.

"Ron? What's all the ruckus about?"

"It's Harry! He turned invisible and ran downstairs."

Harry pushed the portrait open.

"Harry! Wait!"

At Ron's words, he halted.

"Take us with you," said Hermione.

"Take you with me where?"

"You're going after the stone, aren't you?"

"The stone?" asked Ron. "Why would he do that? The stone's safe, isn't it?"

"Dumbledore's left the school," said Hermione, "and you think Lord Voldemort knows how to get past your Seal, don't you?"

"How do you-" began Harry, but Hermione interrupted.

"Please, just take us with you."

"Y-yeah," said a rather scared-looking Ron, "we can help."

Harry was quiet. Then he raised the cloak.

"Fine. Get under here."

The trio, now all under the Invisibility Cloak, made their way to the forbidden corridor. Making sure the coast was clear, Harry pointed his wand at the lock and whispered 'Alohomora'.

"So how does this Seal thing work?" asked Ron quietly as he closed the door behind them.

Harry stepped towards the trapdoor in the floor. Immediately, rainbow-colored lights rose from the floor in front of him, causing a gasp from Ron. The light solidified into a spectral image that greatly resembled Harry, and his voice sounded from somewhere within the light.

"If you wish to pass beyond this point, you will need to answer three questions. Are you ready?"

"I am ready," answered Harry.

"Then let us begin," said the Seal. "What is the greatest power in the world?"

"The greatest power in the world is love."

"What are you talking about, Harry?" asked Ron. "How can love be-"

"Why," asked the Seal again, "did the one-year-old Harry Potter survive the killing curse?"

"Harry Potter survived the killing curse because he was protected by the magic of his mother's love, who died to save him."

"And who is the true Master of Death?"

"The true master of death is whoever accepts that death is inevitable."

"I am convinced," said the Seal. "You are not Lord Voldemort. You may pass."

The light seeped back into the floor. Ron seemed to be speechless.

"Come on," said Harry as he ripped open the trapdoor. "There's a soft landing, but make sure to get out of there as fast as possible."

"Why?" asked Ron, but Harry had already jumped. As expected, he landed on a soft plant which he knew was Devil's Snare. He quickly got up and managed to get away before the vile plant got a firm grip on him. Ron fell down screaming.

"Come on! Get out of there!"

Ron was still struggling with the plant by the time Hermione landed beside him. She rushed to Harry's side quickly, but Ron did not. He could not overpower the Snare. Harry remembered that Devil's Snare hated fire, but the only fire-based spell he could think of was one he had never used. Nevertheless, he raised his wand and pointed it at the plant.

"Incendio!"

A blast of flame, much stronger than Harry had expected, hit the plant, which quickly retreated. Ron ran to Harry's side as the fire diminished. Harry could have sworn he saw a lizard in the flames just before it vanished, but he had no time to think about that just now. They had to move on.

Next they entered the room of flying keys. Harry looked up and his heart sank somewhat. He had no idea which key would fit the door. Even if he knew, there was no way he could catch it. Even Hermione was a better flyer than him, and that was saying something. He was certain the keys were resistant to spells, so he could hardly summon the one he needed. Harry became aware that he was pacing. How could he do this?

"What exactly are we supposed to do now?" asked Ron.

Harry didn't even look up.

"One of those flying keys goes to that door."

"So we need to find the right one and catch it," said Hermione.

"Exactly."

Harry heard Hermione's footsteps as she strode over to the door opposite. She did not try the Alohomora spell. She didn't even touch the door. No doubt she was pondering the problem, same as him.

_How can we do this?_

"Hermione? What are you doing?" said Ron's voice somewhere behind him.

Harry heard a whooshing sound and looked up to see Hermione fly up on one of the brooms, catch an old silver key, and land in front of them. Harry's mouth fell open.

"Err- Wow! How... When did you... but you're a horrible flyer, like me! When did you get so good?"

"Harry, we really don't have time! Come on, let's hurry!"

Harry looked at Ron, who shared his stunned expression. Hermione hurried to the door, opened it with the key and marched on. Harry and Ron followed.

In the next chamber, the giant chessboard awaited them.

"Ron," said Harry quietly, "this is where I have to put my trust in you."

Ron looked at him, surprised. "M-me?"

"This is a chessboard, Ron. You're the best chess player I've ever known. Which ones should we replace?"

"Replace?"

"We don't have time for this. Look, anyone wishing to move on to the next chamber needs to participate in this chess game by replacing one of the game pieces. Come on, Ron. Pull it together and lead us through this."

Ron swallowed and looked over the chessboard, apparently deep in thought, before deciding that Hermione should be a castle, Harry a bishop, and he himself a knight. They took their places on the board and the game began.

At first, Ron did pretty well, but then the opponent took control and eliminated most of Ron's pieces with apparent ease. Harry looked over at Ron and saw that he still seemed hopeful. These losses didn't seem to faze him at all. Harry tried to pay a little more attention to Ron's strategy and noticed he sometimes placed his pieces where the opponent would surely strike them down. He realized there was more to Ron's plan. He was trying to create an opening for a checkmate, though how he was going to achieve that was beyond Harry. Then, the opponent did something Ron had clearly not expected; it took the other knight. Ron's confidence seemed to shatter. He looked all over the chessboard, apparently seeking a way to fix this, but then the remainder of his hope vanished from his face completely.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I blew it."

"You haven't blown anything, Ronald," said Hermione.

Ron and Harry looked at her.

"There's still one move you can make."

"But- but I can't. Harry will-"

_Harry will what?_ Harry took a closer look at the situation. Yes, they could win. Ron simply refused to make the necessary move, because it required him to sacrifice his last bishop; Harry.

Harry moved.

"Harry! What are you doing!?"

"You need the queen out of the way."

"But Harry! You'll-"

But Harry had already completed his move.

"Check."

The queen moved. She struck. Harry heard a crack and was thrown off the board. He lay among the remains of other defeated chessmen and bit his lip to prevent himself from crying out in pain.

"Harry!"

"Just finish it! Win the game!"

He heard Ron hurry to make the last move.

"Checkmate."

The opposing king's crown made a clang as it hit the board. Harry heard rushing footsteps. Ron was at his side.

"Are you alright?"

Harry wanted to say yes, but the pain in his upper leg was too much. The leg was bent the wrong way. It was clearly broken.

"Help me put my leg right."

"Harry, you need Madam Pomfrey!"

"Just help me."

Ron put the foot in the correct position, with Harry half-crying from the pain.

"Where- Where's Hermione?"

"She... I think she went ahead."

"She WHAT!?"

Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at his thigh.

"Sarciossis!"

A blue jet of light shot from the wand into his leg. Harry could feel the pain vanish as the bone was mended.

Harry got up. Ron looked astonished.

"How did you-"

"Bone-Mending Charm. Pretty simple, really. Come on."

They hurried towards the next chamber. A foul and familiar stench met their nostrils. Harry kept his wand raised, ready to face the waiting troll. When the chamber came into view, however, he almost dropped the wand. The troll was unconscious. Had Hermione done this? Harry looked at Ron, who looked back with a stunned face.

"Blimey," said Ron. "I never knew Hermione could do that."

"Neither did I," replied Harry. Spotting the entrance to the next chamber, he added; "let's just move on."

"She's definitely not mashed under there, right?" said Ron as they moved past the troll. Harry stopped, considering this with a worried expression. He pointed his wand at the troll and uttered a spell. The troll was lifted into the air. Nope, nothing under there. Ron sighed in relief, and they moved on to the next chamber.

Remembering what the next challenge was, Harry said "I hope Hermione's still in here."

"Why? There can't be anything worse than a troll."

"How about poison and fire?"

They entered the next chamber, and immediately flames rose up and blocked both the way forward and the passage back. Hermione wasn't there. Harry saw the potions lined up before them and walked straight towards them. This was why he needed Hermione. He had only realized it after the chess challenge. He couldn't remember which bottle would lead them onwards. He looked at the poem and read it aloud. Ron listened, but could offer no advice. This was an extremely well composed riddle. Harry looked down on the potions, frustrated that his memory had failed him at such a crucial point.

"Ron," said Harry, "I've noticed you don't always bother to put your school things back in your bag. Sometimes you just shove stuff in your pockets."

"Err- Yeah. So?"

"Do you happen to have some ink and a quill?"

Ron checked his pockets. Indeed, among the many small treasures hidden there was an old, ruffled quill and a half-full ink bottle. Harry pulled out the Christmas card he had shoved so hastily in his pocket. Using these together, he was able to write down notes while trying to decipher the riddle. The minutes passed as Harry slowly worked out the riddle. After thinking hard for about ten minutes, he was able to determine the locations of the three poisons. After that, it took him only another minute to be certain of which bottles held the wine.

"_Different are those who stand at either end, but if you would move onward, neither is your friend._ That means _this potion_," Harry concluded, pointing at the one to the far right, "will let us go back, and _this one_," he pointed at the smallest bottle, "will take us forward."

He held up the bottle for Ron to see.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," answered Harry, wiping sweat from his brow. He could hardly believe he'd actually solved it. As far as he knew, only Hermione and Quirrel had ever solved this riddle. Ron looked quite impressed, but then he took another look at the bottle.

"There's only enough in that tiny thing for one drinker."

"Yeah," said Harry, "I think that's the idea. It's safer to only allow one person in at a time."

"So what do you want me to do?"

Harry was impressed. Ron had accepted without question that Harry should be the one to go on, and Harry hadn't even mentioned anything of the sort.

"You drink _this one_," said Harry, handing him the right-side potion, "and go back. Head to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore. Tell him the stone's been compromised and that I'm on my way to save it."

"Right. And Harry-"

Harry had hurried towards the black flame, swallowing the necessary potion, but stopped to listen to Ron.

"Good luck."

"You too."

Harry hurried through the flame and stepped into the passage to the final chamber. Out of some strange instinct, his thoughts strayed to his Christmas card. There had not been a coin attached. He remembered that in the books, the Dursleys had sent him a Christmas card with a coin attached, which was supposed to be his present from them. Although he wasn't surprised that they didn't bother sending him anything after the way things had developed in the summer, he pulled the card back out and looked at it. He was about to enter the final chamber and did not bother spending even a second actually reading it, but he did notice two things: First, the writing did not look like Uncle Vernon's handwriting, nor Aunt Petunia's. Second, it was signed 'H'.

Harry did not dwell on the card, however, because at that moment, he entered the chamber. Wand raised, he slowly and quietly made his way inside. Hermione was there, staring into the mirror, but no one else. Had he been wrong? Was he, perhaps, ahead of Quirrel? He lowered the wand and moved toward the mirror.

"So you made it, Harry."

There was something odd in the way Hermione said that, but as soon as Harry took the last step toward the Mirror of Erised, everything else was thrown out of his mind. The image before him was all he cared to see or think about.

He saw himself, not Harry Potter, staring back at him. He saw himself, exactly as he had looked the day before he entered this world. Behind him stood two people who had consumed his thoughts for years, causing him unimaginable pain; his parents. He realized he had not even spared a thought for them since he entered this school. As that thought passed into his mind, his parents smiled and nodded. This was what they wanted. They didn't want him to dwell on them. It was only then that he noticed the girl standing next to him in the mirror. Hermione's reflection had been replaced by Ginny. She looked much older than she was now. In fact, she seemed to be around the same age as he'd been before all this. She took his hand and squeezed it, then leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder. The arm of his reflection traveled around the back and held her firmly.

He couldn't stop tears from forming in his eyes.

"This mirror is the key."

Harry and Hermione looked up and Hermione read the text at the top of the mirror.

"Erised strah ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on woshi."

"You're supposed to read it backwards," said Harry. "I show not your face but your heart's desire."

"So how does this mirror help us get the stone?"

"Only the one who wants to find the stone, not use it, will be able to get it."

Harry looked back in the mirror, focusing on his desire to get the stone to safety. His parents had gone, and his reflection had changed to show who he was now; Harry Potter. Ginny was still there. She smiled, took a gleaming red stone from her pocket, and put it in the pocket of Harry's reflection. As she did, Harry could feel something falling into his own pocket. Ginny put her finger to her mouth and made a shushing gesture.

Harry put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the stone. It seemed to glow in the torchlight. Then Harry heard something that sent a terrible chill down his spine. How could he have been so stupid? His thoughts strayed back to the Christmas card, signed 'H'.

"Very good, Potter," said Hermione's voice from behind him. "Now hand me the Philosopher's Stone."

**Author's Notes:**

This used to be chapter 7, but since I combined the first two chapters into one, I've had to change the number of all the other chapters. This time I also made few minor changes. Nothing big, just grammar and stuff. The part where Harry's looking in the mirror looks a lot better now, as do all mentions of Hermione after she leaves for Christmas break and before Christmas breakfast.

This chapter seems to be around the same length as the previous one. Hi, again. I'm very sorry this took so long, but I've been busy. Also, don't expect the next one to be up anytime soon. My next few weeks will be devoted to schoolwork. I may be able to have the next one up by Christmas, but I can't promise anything. After that, I won't have access to this computer until next year. Let's keep our fingers crossed.

Are you bored with the whole thing about beginning each chapter with the previous chapter's ending? I decided a while ago to make it a theme of this story. That way, you can see where you are in the story without checking the previous chapter every time.

Do you think I've made any mistakes regarding the personalities of the characters, such as the teachers? I think they're portrayed correctly, but if you think differently, speak up.

I decided to make Alicia the Gryffindor Chaser. Obviously, she's not very good at it, but since Harry sucks at flying, their choices were pretty limited.

What do you think of the bone-mending charm, Sarciossis? I made it up myself, based on the knowledge that Madam Pomfrey "can mend bones in a heartbeat". That's basically what this charm does. The name is taken from latin. Sarcio means mend or repair, while ossis is a form of the word os, which means bone. In other words, "mend bone(s)".

The Seal of Harry Potter was something that came to me when I was pondering how Harry might try to protect the stone. If you're wondering about its properties, the seal will ask three predetermined questions. If you answer incorrectly, the Seal will prevent you from opening the door (in this case, the trapdoor). So what did you think of the questions I chose?

Some of you are probably pretty confused right about now, but the next chapter will serve to clear a few things up, including Fluffy's death.

Also, I wasn't completely happy with this chapter. It's good overall, but there was a certain point where I wanted to add some more meat to it. I decided, however, to get the chapter done and not spend hours thinking about tiny details. I'm thinking about rewriting this and other chapters, particularly some of the shorter ones. But I probably won't be doing that any time soon. Maybe when I've finished writing about Harry's first year. It's also possible I'll wait until I've finished the entire story. We'll see.

Once again, I offer thanks to my readers and reviewers and remind you that I am open to questions.

Till next time.


	8. Chapter 7: Riddle Me This

**Chosen - a Harry Potter fanfic**

By Anton B. Ingibjartsson, AKA dragonwrath7

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. I am not JK Rowling.

This story was partly influenced and inspired by the fanfic _In The Words Of Ginevra Molly Potter_, by _TheJealousOne_.

THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS TO ALL THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THEM AND DON'T WANT THE EXPERIENCE RUINED FOR YOU, REFRAIN FROM READING FURTHER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

_THIS STORY HAS UNDERGONE SEVERAL CHANGES! BEFORE READING ON, I SUGGEST YOU READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS AGAIN. AT LEAST TAKE A LOOK AT THE NEW PROLOGUE AND FIRST CHAPTER!__ ALSO TAKE NOTE THAT I'VE CREATED A FORUM FOR THIS STORY!_

**Chapter Seven: Riddle Me This**

Harry put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the stone. It seemed to glow in the torchlight. Then Harry heard something that sent a terrible chill down his spine. How could he have been so stupid? His thoughts strayed back to the Christmas card, signed 'H'.

"Very good, Potter," said Hermione's voice from behind him. "Now hand me the Philosopher's Stone."

Harry stopped breathing. He looked down at the Christmas card, which he had dropped to the floor. How could he not have recognized the handwriting? Why hadn't he bothered to read it?

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy Christmas! I was going to buy you a present, but I couldn't find anything so I hope this card will suffice. Mom and dad were a little shocked when Hedwig flew in through the kitchen window with your present. Thanks, by the way. See you soon._

_Love, H._

How could he have been so blind? How could he not have seen? He should have noticed the difference. Hermione had been unusually quiet all Christmas break. She had known he was going after the stone. She had caught the flying key, despite the fact she was supposed to be a lousy flyer. She had known how to win the chess game and hadn't seemed particularly upset that Harry had to be sacrificed so they could win. She'd even gotten past the troll on her own without suffering so much as a scratch, a feat the real Hermione could not have accomplished at her current skill level, and she had_ spoken Voldemort's name _without even a_ shiver_!

"Turn around, Potter."

Slowly, reluctantly, Harry did as he was told. For a moment, the two simply stared at each other, one with a triumphant smile, the other a defiant scowl.

"Why are you doing this, Quirrel?"

"Why, Potter," the fake Hermione replied, "I thought you knew everything. Your Seer abilities are quite impressive, I must say. How unfortunate that you are not such a natural at Occlumency."

"But why do you serve Voldemort? He will betray you. You _know_ he will."

"Because in his service I will be truly strong, Potter. Your understanding of the Dark Arts is limited at best. You cannot imagine the glory that can be obtained through them."

"You're wrong. The Dark Arts are for the weak, and so is serving Voldemort. You are nothing more than a weak fool."

Harry had to admit he had no idea where his courage was coming from.

"A fool, am I?" asked Quirrel, no longer smiling. "It was not I who thought of my plans in the presence of my enemy without using Occlumency."

Another chill crept down Harry's spine. So that's how he'd known. That was the reason Fluffy was dead. Harry had always known how to get past Fluffy so he hadn't thought about it, and when Quirrel realized Fluffy would become a real obstacle he'd simply gone and killed it. Harry had, however, thought a great deal about how to get past the other obstacles during class. _Quirrel's_ _class_, in fact. And Quirrel had simply used Legilimency to listen in on Harry's thoughts. Harry wondered if he'd also done this in the books, or if something Harry changed had affected the situation, compelling him to read his mind when he otherwise wouldn't have bothered.

"It was not I who was too intent on stopping my enemy to notice the change in my own best friend."

Harry shivered. That one really hurt. Quirrel had hit a soft spot, and he knew it. It was one thing to forget using Occlumency; that was a mistake. But the same could not be said about his latter comment. Harry had ignored the best friend he'd ever had, and that was unforgivable. Harry forced himself to look Quirrel in the eye, and noticed that he was slowly growing taller. The eyes were changing from Hermione's brown to Quirrel's jet black, and the hair seemed to be vanishing back into his skull. The polyjuice potion, which was obviously what Quirrel had used to mimic Hermione's appearance, was wearing off.

"You see, Potter, your time has run out. Today, you die."

Harry didn't know what to do, so he simply kept talking.

"Wrong. I've seen my own death, and it's neither here nor now."

"Oh? Tell me then, when and where is your death?"

Quirrel had almost completely turned back into himself. Harry held his wand firmly, and his mind jumped to the seventh Harry Potter book.

"In the forest, about seven and a half years from now."

Harry tightened his grip on the Philosopher's Stone as the last hair slipped into Quirrel's skull. The time had come.

A wicked hissing voice could be heard from behind Quirrel's head.

"Turn around, Quirrel. I will confront the child myself."

Quirrel quickly obliged. As Harry had expected, he now stood before an entirely different wizard. The cold crimson eyes of Lord Voldemort pierced him from the back of Quirrel's head. Harry froze in sheer terror. Time seemed to stop. The only indication of the seconds passing was the rapid beating of his own heart.

"Hello, Harry."

"Riddle."

"Do not speak that filthy name before me, Potter."

"I'll say whatever I want, Tom. I'm destined to live for another seven years. You cannot kill me."

Once again, Harry had no idea where his courage came from. He had expected to stand frozen in fear.

Voldemort showed no signs of anger, but the extra pain in Harry's scar was all the evidence he needed. He may not have shown it, but Voldemort was furious.

"If you want this stone," said Harry, holding the Philosopher's Stone in front of him, "you'll have to rip it from my cold, dead hands. Oops, I forgot. That won't be happening for another seven years."

"This insolence will get you nowhere. Give me the stone now, or your mudblood friend dies."

"Nice try, but Hermione isn't even in the school. And like you said, she's a mudblood, which means there's no chance in hell you'd spare her anyway."

"Give us the stone, Potter!" Quirrel's voice sounded from behind Voldemort.

"You'll have to kill me for it."

Voldemort seemed disappointed.

"I had hoped you would join my cause, Potter, but very well." He looked Harry directly in the eye and smiled. Upon the sight, Harry couldn't stop a cold shiver from running down his spine. "Kill him."

Quirrel turned around and threw a fireball at Harry. Harry barely avoided it and the flame hit the mirror. Harry quickly aimed his wand.

"Aguamenti!"

A jet of ice-cold water hit Quirrel in the face. For a moment, Harry thought he saw a fish appear in the water, but a moment later it was gone and Harry didn't have time to think about it. Knowing the water wouldn't distract Quirrel for long, he ran towards the chamber entrance. Suddenly a wall of fire appeared before him, blocking his path. Quirrel threw another fireball at him.

"Reflecto!"

An orange ball of light shot from Harry's wand and hit the fireball. This caused the fireball to change course, hurling into the wall on Harry's left. Harry ran right, as another fireball flew his way. He looked around in a panic. There was no other way out of the room and no place to hide. Then he noticed the Mirror of Erised. He remembered that the mirror had been hit with a fireball earlier, but it was completely intact. There was no sign of the mirror being damaged or even scorched by the flame.

Suddenly, it felt like his left arm was on fire. He cried out in surprise and pain. Without stopping to see what had happened, he aimed his wand at Quirrel.

"Fumos!"

Smoke erupted from the wand and engulfed Quirrel. Harry heard him trying to escape the veil of smoke. He caught a glimpse of Quirrel's feet and aimed his wand at them.

"Colloshoo!"

Quirrel's shoes were glued to the floor. Before the smoke dissipated, Harry jumped behind the mirror. If fireballs couldn't damage it, he was surely safer behind it. Dumbledore must have put protective spells on it. His arm still felt like it was burning, but no flame was visible. Thinking fast, he pointed his wand at his arm and hoped it was a minor curse.

"Malus Aufero."

The pain vanished. Whatever it had been it was clearly not very powerful. Malus Aufero was a simple charm that could only be used as a counter-measure to minor curses.

"You cannot hide, Potter. Show yourself."

"In your dreams," replied Harry and shoved the Philosopher's Stone back into his pocket.

Quirrel cried out in anger and the mirror shook as it was hit by some spell. Harry knew he didn't have much time. The Colloshoo charm only glued the target's shoes to the ground. All Quirrel had to do was take off his shoes and he could follow Harry behind the mirror.

_Think! There's got to be a way out of this._

_You know there's always one thing you can do._

_Yes, but that's dangerous._

_You're in danger right now. You don't have much choice in the matter._

_Fine._

Harry took a peek past the mirror's edge, ready to quickly duck back behind it if Quirrel threw another spell at him. Quirrel, however, was busy taking off his shoes.

_You won't get a better chance than this!_

Harry jumped out and ran towards Quirrel, who raised his hand to throw some spell against him. Guided by sheer instinct, Harry quickly pointed his wand at Quirrel's hand.

"Galcius!"

Quirrel's hand was frozen in ice and he gave a cry of pain. He quickly raised his other hand, but before he could cast any spells, Harry was upon him. Dropping his wand, Harry grabbed Quirrel's arm with one hand and his face with the other.

The pain was intense. His scar burned like never before.

_Just a few seconds,_ thought Harry, _just hold on for a few seconds._

Quirrel was clearly suffering even more pain than Harry, but he somehow found the strength to act. Harry fell over and nearly lost consciousness when something hard it him on the head. Quirrel had hit him with his frozen arm.

Lying on the floor, barely conscious, Harry tried desperately to reach his wand, but Quirrel kicked it away. It was over then. There was nothing he could do. Quirrel ripped open Harry's pocket and pulled out the stone.

_Hermione... Ron..._

Quirrel put the stone in his pocket and smiled cruelly at Harry.

_Ginny..._

Quirrel raised his hand to cast the final spell, and Harry knew it was all over. He gave in to his pains and let himself slip into unconsciousness, but just as his mind was entering sweet oblivion, another voice sounded throughout the chamber.

"Stupefy!"

**Author's Notes:**

For those of you who failed to see the larger-than-life notice at the top, I've done a bit of a revamp for the story. For a full list of these changes, see the new prologue.

This chapter is short, but you shouldn't complain. You're lucky I was able to write anything at all. I've been very busy. Also, don't expect another chapter until next summer. I doubt very much that I'll find the time to work on this story for the next few months. As of today, I'm done apologizing for how long it takes me to write these. If they arrive early, great. If not, that's just to be expected.

You'll notice I used some new spells in this chapter. Some were original, some weren't. The ones I didn't invent were from sources such as HP video games or the HP card game.

There's a forum for this story now. I would very much like it if you used it and discussed thins among yourselves rather than asking me. It helps to see others discuss these matters because it shows how the story affects people differently. As always, you're free to ask questions in your comments, but I prefer you use the forum.

Once again, I offer thanks to my readers, especially those who've left constructive comments.

Special thanks go to thejealousone for reading this story and adding me to his community. I'm a big fan. Thanks pal.

Oh, and I've added a poll to my profile. Ceck it out and participate, please. I'd very much ike to see what you think. This poll will remain open until I upload the next chapter.

Be seein' ya.


	9. Chapter 8: The Guardian

**Chosen - a Harry Potter fanfic**

By Anton B. Ingibjartsson, AKA dragonwrath7

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. I am not JK Rowling.

This story was partly influenced and inspired by the fanfic _In The Words Of Ginevra Molly Potter_, by _TheJealousOne_.

THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS TO ALL THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THEM AND DON'T WANT THE EXPERIENCE RUINED FOR YOU, REFRAIN FROM READING FURTHER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

**Chapter Eight: The Guardian**

Quirrel raised his hand to cast the final spell, and Harry knew it was all over. He gave in to his pains and let himself slip into unconsciousness, but just as his mind was entering sweet oblivion, another voice sounded throughout the chamber.

"Stupefy!"

The next thing Harry knew, he was lying in a comfortable bed. He could see through his closed eyelids that the room he was in was bright.

_Am I dead? Is this heaven?_

Fear engulfed him when he thought of another far more horrible option.

_Am I back in my world? Am I lying in my own bed at home?_

It was a voice that saved him from this terror.

"Is he still out of it?"

Harry calmed down. It was the voice of Ron, who was approaching Harry from the right.

"Yes," replied Hermione's voice from Harry's left side, "he hasn't woken up at all since I came."

"How long've you been here?"

"I came in this morning, about seven o'clock."

"Seven? That was almost nine hours ago. Aren't you hungry?"

"I'm fine," replied Hermione stubbornly. Harry became aware of her hand holding his. It was rather sweaty, as if she hadn't let go at all since she first arrived.

"Look, this isn't good for your health. Harry's gonna be fine."

"I'm not leaving."

"Harry's been like this for days. Madam Pomfrey won't let you stay here overnight unless you get seriously ill."

"I'm staying," she repeated.

Silence, then-

"It's good to have the real you back. The fake Hermione didn't have your..." Ron began, but didn't seem to know how to finish his sentence. Harry could almost _hear_ him blushing. Finally, he settled on "...flare."

For some reason, Hermione's hand suddenly squeezed tighter around Harry's. Before anything else could be said, Harry heard the door to the hospital wing swing open, and someone with loud footsteps made his way to his bed.

"How's he doin'?" whispered Hagrid.

"Madam Pomfrey says he's fine. He just needs some rest."

"I feel awful. If Fluffy was still 'ere, none o' this woulda happened."

"No, Hagrid," said Harry, opening his eyes, "if I hadn't screwed up, Fluffy wouldn't have died."

"Harry!" yelled an ecstatic Hermione. "You're awake!"

"Yeah, I know," he replied, rolling his eyes. "I've actually been awake since Ron asked if I was still 'out of it'."

"And you didn't say anything!" said Ron. He seemed a little less happy to see Harry awake, for some reason.

"Sorry."

"That's all right, Harry," said Hermione, who simply sounded relieved that he was awake.

"As I was saying," said Harry, pulling himself into a sitting position and drawing his hand out of Hermione's grasp, "it's my fault Fluffy's dead. No, don't say anything." Hagrid had just opened his mouth, but closed it again. Harry continued. "I left my mind unprotected in my enemy's presence and Fluffy paid the price. Besides," he added as an afterthought, "even if Fluffy was still here, this whole thing would still have happened. It might have taken him a while, but he would have found some way to get you to reveal Fluffy's weakness. And then there wouldn't even have been a Seal to keep him out."

"But, Harry, the seal _didn't_ keep 'im out," said Hagrid.

"It would have," replied Harry sourly, "if I hadn't been so stupid."

Hermione, Ron and Hagrid looked at each other, but before any of them could make further comments, Madam Pomfrey showed up.

"Welcome to the waking world, Potter. How are you feeling?"

Harry was going to say 'fine', but then a sickly feeling crept up on him and he let himself drop back onto the pillow.

"Just a little woozy."

"That's to be expected. I think you could do with a little more sleep."

She presented him with a small dose of sleeping potion.

"Drink this and you should feel completely refreshed when you wake up."

Harry took the potion.

"I think I'll do that."

He lifted his head and put the cup to his lips, but then paused.

"Er- Hagrid, could you do me a favor?"

"Wha' is it, Harry?"

"Get Hermione and Ron out of the hospital wing and make sure they eat something. _Besides _your rock cakes."

Hagrid chuckled. "O' course, Harry."

Harry drank the potion, and once again felt himself slip into unconsciousness. The last thing he felt was a quick squeeze of his hand from Hermione.

Several days later, Harry found himself alone at the top of the Astronomy tower in the middle of the night, having travelled there in the safety of his Invisibility Cloak. He stared off into the distance, allowing the memories of the past few days to wash over him.

Dumbledore had yet to come and see him. What could have caused this? Surely the headmaster was not to busy to talk with the boy who risked his life to save the Philosopher's Stone.

_Save the stone?_ said a familiar voice at the back of his mind. _You're the reason it almost got stolen!_

He didn't argue. He had led Quirrel straight to the stone, clearing the only two obstacles that caused him trouble. If Harry hadn't interfered, the stone would undoubtedly still be sealed in the Mirror of Erised.

Perhaps Dumbledore was angry with him. Yes, that sounded likely. Dumbledore had every reason to be angry, and it was as good a reason as any to not talk with Harry.

Harry's thoughts also dwelled a great deal on Hermione. She was his best friend, and yet he hadn't noticed the difference when Quirrel used Polyjuice Potion to mimic her. Even so, she made no indication that she blamed him. On the contrary, she was simply concerned for him. Why didn't she hate him?

Harry sighed and turned to leave. He jumped.

"Good evening, Harry," said Dumbledore, who stood by the entrance to the stairs. "Fancy meeting you up here."

_Right, _said the voice in his head, _like he wasn't planning this._

Harry just swallowed and focused on his Occlumency.

"That isn't going to help you, Harry," said Dumbledore, smiling serenely at him.

"W-what do you mean, sir?" stammered Harry, nervously.

Dumbledore walked past him and turned to the sky, as if to look at the moon.

"What I mean is, you do not have the discipline or training necessary to use Occlumency properly. Your method is crude and ineffective, and if I chose to use my Legilimency now, you would be unable to stop me."

Harry took a step back.

"So all this time..."

"Yes, even if you'd used Occlumency to conceal your thoughts from Quirrel, it would not have worked. Mastering Occlumency without a master to teach you is nearly impossible. This is something that cannot be learned from books alone."

Harry looked out at the stars, his resolve strengthening. He had overestimated himself. A mistake he would not repeat. Then a terrifying thought struck him. Did Dumbledore _know_?

"Sir, have you been using Legilimency on me?"

"No, I have not, and I have no intention of ever doing so. You are an interesting individual, Harry, but I doubt Legilimency will ever be needed between us. Besides, reading your thoughts is hardly necessary to one who can read your face like a book."

He turned away from the sky to look at Harry, his half-moon glasses sparkling in the moonlight. His smile was inviting, as if to say; _go on, keep asking_.

Harry thought about asking why Dumbledore hadn't come to see him before, but he wasn't sure how to phrase the question without sounding rude. Then another question occurred to him.

"But if you're not reading my mind, how do you always know when I'm trying to block you?"

"Oh, but Harry, I already told you. Your face is an open book to me. It's not very difficult to see when you're concentrating."

Harry was only a little surprised. He knew Dumbledore was smart, he just hadn't counted on him being so good at reading body language and facial expressions.

"Sir, where were did you go on Christmas?"

"I merely went down to the village of Hogsmeade for a drink. Madam Rosmerta, the landlady at the Three Broomsticks, makes the most excellent oak-matured mead."

"And perhaps you visited your brother?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," replied Dumbledore without a shred of surprise. The fact that Harry knew he had a brother who worked in the village did not seem to disturb him in the least, even though this was a fact that very few people knew about.

Harry sighed. "Are you _sure_ there's no way to learn Occlumency without a teacher?"

"Quite. But you could always ask Professor Snape."

"No," replied Harry firmly. "I can't."

"You don't trust him," said Dumbledore. It was a statement, not a question.

"I trust him with my life," replied Harry glumly, "but not with much else."

After a brief silence, Harry changed the subject.

"So what happened that night? I presume Riddle escaped."

"You presume correctly, Harry. Lord Voldemort escaped, leaving the horribly disfigured Quirrel to be taken into custody, but not before they both saw who had saved you."

"Snape," sighed Harry. He remembered all to well the voice of his rescuer. He'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry. And, incidentally, the Philosopher's Stone is no longer a threat. I've had a little chat with my old friend Nicholas Flamel, the maker of the stone, and we've decided it's best to destroy it."

"So basically, the stone's gone, but Quirrel lives to serve Voldemort in the future and _Professor_ Snape has lost Voldemort's trust, making him useless as a spy."

There was no hiding Harry's spite when he spoke Snape's name, and Dumbledore noticed.

"You hate him."

"I'm trying not to, Professor, but he's not exactly making it easy."

"He saved your life. You should not forget that."

Dumbledore did not continue on the subject, opting instead to return to gazing at the stars. After a moment's pause, Harry dug his wand out from his pocket and looked at it.

"I wouldn't have needed saving if this thing didn't refuse to perform curses properly."

"Have you ever heard the Muggle saying; 'A poor sailor blames his oars'?"

Harry nodded. He'd heard that one.

"Well, the same holds true for us, Harry. Only a poor wizard blames his wand for his own shortcomings."

Harry stared at him incredulously.

"_His own shortcomings_? Are you saying _I'm_ the one who's so bad at using curses? That I'm just a poor wizard?"

"Perhaps not," replied Dumbledore and pointed at the wand. "After all, you were chosen by the Trinity Wand. That little stick in your hand couldn't be more valuable if it were made of gold."

"But... It's not any better than other wands, and it can't even perform curses properly. Not even when I'm angry."

"Harry, of course it's not as powerful with curses."

Now Harry was just plain surprised. What on earth could Dumbledore be hinting at now?

"You spend so much time in the library. Did you never think to look up the attributes of your wand? Auguray feather, Salamander heartstring, Ramora fin."

Harry didn't understand, but then he remembered that when he had used Incendio, he'd seen the image of a lizard within the flames, and he'd also seen an image of a fish within his Aguamenti charm.

"Sir, do you mean to say that this wand is more powerful when used with water, fire and air spells?"

"Not necessarily. What I mean is, what do these creatures have in common?"

Harry just stared at him, not knowing the answer.

"The Auguray," explained Dumbledore, "which, coincidentally, is also known as the Irish Phoenix, cries out in warning whenever it's about to rain. The blood of a Salamander has powerful regenerative and curative properties. The Ramora is a guardian of seafarers."

Harry looked back down at his wand as he began to understand.

"Harry, the Trinity Wand is the wand of a guardian. It will choose none other. Not ministry workers, not aurors, not even the headmaster of Hogwarts."

Harry looked swiftly at Dumbledore in surprise. The Trinity Wand had denied _him_?

"You are a guardian, Harry. You would rather throw yourself in harm's way than see your friends get hurt. That makes you worthy of that wand. A wand that is weak in offensive and harmful spells, but incredibly strong in defensive and otherwise positive magic."

Harry looked at his wand, and then back at Dumbledore, his face riddled in doubt. Dumbledore turned away from him and walked towards the stairs.

"After all," he said just before vanishing from Harry's sight, "not many eleven-year-olds could have created something as powerful as the Seal of Harry Potter."

It was a peaceful year after that. School continued as normal, though without any DADA classes. The story of Harry's Christmas adventure had been quick to spread throughout the school and people were staring more than usual, but Harry had learned to zone it out.

Having now discovered the nature of his wand, Harry changed the focus of his library studies to all types of defensive and positive spells. He found several spells that would come in handy in the future, but actually mastering them was a little difficult. He was not allowed to practice in the library, but got permission from Professor McGonagall to use the now-empty DADA classroom.

Eventually, he settled into a routine of study and practice which lasted until the end of term.

It was as he was leaving the term's last Potions class that a thought struck him and he deliberately dawdled behind while everyone else left. Professor Snape was quick to notice.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?"

Harry made sure everyone was gone before replying.

"I wanted to thank you, Professor, for what you did at Christmas."

"Don't get any delusions, Potter. I wasn't saving you, I was saving the stone."

Harry inhaled, trying to calm himself. Snape's tone was not making this easy.

"I wanted to thank you... for honoring my mother's dying wish."

Snape stared at him incredulously. That was clearly not something he'd expected to hear.

"And could you please dial it down on the hate thing? I trust you with my life, and I'm trying not to hate your guts, but you're not making it easy. I'm not my father, Professor. Half of me came from the other side. I'd like to think I got a little more from my mother than just her eyes."

Professor Snape just kept staring, speechless. Harry turned to leave.

"Your friend Granger asked the same thing."

Harry turned around. "What?"

"Shortly after your first lesson with me, Granger approached me and asked me to leave you alone."

Harry thought about that. He remembered she hadn't dropped her hand for the whole first half of that lesson. Most likely, she'd wanted to know why Snape was so mean to Harry.

"How many points did you take away before she gave up?"

"Twenty-five."

"Wow, she's more persistent than I thought," said Harry and smiled.

Snape did not smile. "Now, Potter, if you don't mind-" He pointed to the door.

"Of course, Professor," replied Harry and bowed. "See you after summer."

Harry was about to close the door when Snape added; "And don't ever mention your parents to me again."

Right. The malice was back in his voice and Harry doubted things had improved at all between them.

Harry was alone in the DADA classroom practicing the shield charm when Ron and Hermione stopped by. Harry asked Ron to cast a curse or jinx at him, and Ron tried the leg-locker curse, with the result that Ron fell to the floor with his legs locked together. Harry laughed with Hermione as she undid the spell. It seemed he'd mastered the shield charm. Quite a feat, considering his age. He wiped the sweat from his brow, he'd been concentrating very hard for over an hour.

"Sorry about that," he said to Ron. "I needed to see if I was actually doing anything... it's kind of hard to practice the shield charm by yourself."

"No problem," said Ron as he got up and laughed with them.

"So what are you guys doing here?" asked Harry. "Wanted to see me practice?"

"Err- no," replied Ron. "We're here to fetch you."

"Fetch me?" asked Harry, confused.

"To bring you to the great hall. The parting feast is about to begin."

"Oh. Right. Wait a second."

He went into his schoolbag and pulled out something he'd prepared earlier in the week. He'd meant to do this sooner, but he wanted to do it in private and he hadn't been able to get them alone until now.

"Here," he said, handing them one silver-colored coin each. The coins were identical, about the size of a pocket-watch, blank on one side but adorned with a lightning-shaped mark on the other and attached to a silver-colored chain. "These are for you."

"Blimey, Harry. What are you giving us? You expect me to wear this?" asked Ron, clearly repulsed at the idea of jewelry.

"Yes, I do," said Harry and pulled out the same kind of coin from under his robes. "Don't mock the coins; they're more valuable than they look. Keep them on you at all times, but keep them to yourselves. Don't tell anyone about them and don't let anyone see them. Got it?"

"Harry," said Hermione as Ron quickly slipped his coin under his robes. "What sort of spells did you put on them?"

Harry smiled. "You know, you're too smart for your own good. Don't think about it. You'll find out later, I promise, but it's important you don't mention them again for the summer. And don't write about them. Not even to me. No matter what happens."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Ron shrugged. Hermione put the coin under her robes and then surprised the boys by hugging Harry.

"Thank you, Harry."

"Hey, tone it down. It's no big deal. You're my friends. It's my job to look after you."

As they walked towards the great hall, Harry thought Ron seemed a little glum, but then he seemed to have a thought that cheered him up somewhat.

"Say, how about you guys come and stay at my place this summer? Mum and dad won't mind."

"If it means escaping the Dursleys, I'm all for it," said Harry, "but I've got to spend at least a portion of the year at Privet Drive, so I'll go there first."

Hermione and Ron looked curiously at him, clearly expecting an explanation.

"Can't tell you why. Sorry."

"Something to do with the future?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, one of the few things concerning the future that I'm absolutely one-hundred per cent sure about. I must go to Privet Drive at least once a year."

And he left it at that. After about a minute of silence, Ron spoke again.

"How about you, Hermione."

"Ron, I'd love to," Ron's smile suddenly got very big, but then Hermione continued; "but I'm going home first, too. I miss my parents."

Ron's smile dropped.

"Well, stay in touch. Let me know when you want to come so mum and dad can come pick you up."

"Sure," replied Harry, "but tell your dad not to use Flew Powder because the fireplace at Privet Drive will most likely be boarded up. Don't ask."

When they came into the Great Hall, Harry stopped dead in surprise. The room was... _red_. The walls were covered in red and gold banners and the Gryffindor lion adorned the back wall. This was very odd. Harry hadn't kept up with the house points over the last few months, but before that, Slytherin had been ahead by about seventy points.

"Harry? What's wrong?" asked Hermione when he did not follow them inside.

"I thought Slytherin was winning," said Harry.

"Oh, they won the Quidditch cup, but we've been in the lead on house points since Christmas," she told him. "You didn't notice?"

"Christmas? What happened at Christmas?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and Ron rolled his eyes.

"Listen to him. 'What happened at Christmas?' Like that sort of thing happens every year."

"_You_, Harry," explained Hermione. "_You_ happened at Christmas. Dumbledore gave you and Ron fifty points each after your Christmas adventure."

Harry went a little red, but went to take his seat with the others. He allowed himself to relax and be happy about the fact that he'd made it through the first year without any serious damage. He was alive, his friends were safe, the stone had been destroyed and Voldemort was gone. For now, at least. He'd even given Gryffindor the points it needed to win the House Cup.

"Another year gone!" said Dumbledore as he started his end-of-year speech, but Harry wasn't listening. He'd just noticed Fred and George trying to hide some large joke item in their robes and, strangely, the sight had reminded him of Ginny. They would be leaving tomorrow, and when they got back to King's Cross, he'd get to see her again. He let his mind wander, but it never wandered far from Ginny.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when Dumbledore said "and finally, let us give a round of applause for the youngest spell-inventor Hogwarts has seen in many years and one of the truest Gryffindor students I have ever met. The inventor of the Seal of Harry Potter-" but the rest of the speech was drowned by the students' applause.

Harry wanted to hide his face. He probably looked like a tomato right now. Hermione took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

_Well_, he thought as they left the Great Hall, _one year down, six to go_. Draco Malfoy walked past them, looking none too happy.

On the train ride back to London, Harry, Ron and Hermione shared a compartment with Neville Longbottom. The others were discussing their test scores (Ron didn't show much enthusiasm), but Harry was thinking about the year to come. He had already made plans for some of the coming events, but certain things still worried him. Was he really up to the task of righting the wrongs in the books? He'd already let one innocent creature die. Hagrid had buried poor Fluffy in his backyard, but Harry hadn't had the guts to go visit the grave.

What did he know about saving people? He hadn't been able to handle a weak Voldemort and a single wizard follower. How could he possibly fight a younger, stronger Voldemort with a Basilisk at his side? And yet he'd have to. He had to save Ginny.

He had to save Ginny? But what if Ginny was never in danger? What if he simply-

"Harry! We're here!" said Hermione suddenly. Harry looked out the window and saw that they were approaching the station. The train began to slow, and an announcement sounded, saying that they were indeed approaching King's Cross. They all scrambled to put away sweet wrappers and such, gather their trunks and change to Muggle clothing (except Hermione, who waited outside), and when the train stopped, everyone was ready to go.

Harry nervously got off behind the others and looked around, expecting to hear Ginny's excited voice yelling 'there he is, Mum, there he is' but it never came. Oh, she was there all right, standing beside her mother and staring at him, but she didn't even open her mouth. When he got to her, it was hard to tell which was redder; her hair or her face. He was sure his face was crimson too.

"Err- hi," was all he was able to say. Funny, he'd been able to act pretty normal around her the last time.

"Hi," she replied in a small voice.

They both looked away, and she shuffled to hide behind her mother, giving Harry a chance to recover enough to answer when Mrs. Weasley greeted him.

As he was leaving the platform, Harry looked back. Hermione was telling her parents some story or other. He heard his name mentioned. The Weasleys were getting ready to leave. Ron, the twins, Percy, Mrs. Weasley and... Ginny. She looked at him shyly. Their eyes met.

Yes. He would protect Ginny. And he wouldn't fail. He was, after all, a guardian. In his pocket, the Trinity Wand seemed to pulse.

He wouldn't fail. He refused to fail.

**Author's Notes:**

Been a while, hasn't it? I don't really have any comments to make on this chapter, except to tell you how amazed I am it turned out this well. I've been worrying about how to wrap up the year since I decided the whole Quirrel thing would take place at Christmas. Anyway, the next chapter will feature some of my favorite characters, so maybe I'll finish that one sooner. Then again, maybe not. I've started gathering material for a book I'm going to write (though whether I can actually get it published will be anyone's guess), and I'm starting college next winter (or the Icelandic equivalent to a college – Háskóli Íslands) so my time will again be limited. I think I can at least finish the next chapter by Christmas, but I don't want to make any promises I might break. I _will_ promise to finish this story eventually, so you don't have to worry about that.

As always, if you have any questions, just ask and I'll answer them sooner or later.

BTW – In my Q&As, when I say 'No Comment' I mean I can't give you a spoiler-free answer.

'Till next time!


	10. Chapter 9: Ginny Weasley

**Chosen - a Harry Potter fanfic**

By Anton B. Ingibjartsson, AKA dragonwrath7

Disclaimer: If I were JK Rowling, I'd own the Harry Potter universe. Too bad I'm not.

This story **(especially this chapter)** was partly influenced and inspired by the fanfic _In The Words Of Ginevra Molly Potter_, by _TheJealousOne_.

**Additionally, this chapter was inspired by the film **_**Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince **_**and the beautiful music of Kate Covington (katethegreat19).**

THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS TO ALL THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THEM AND DON'T WANT THE EXPERIENCE RUINED FOR YOU, REFRAIN FROM READING FURTHER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

**Chapter Nine: Ginny Weasley**

As he was leaving the platform, Harry looked back. Hermione was telling her parents some story or other. He heard his name mentioned. The Weasleys were getting ready to leave. Ron, the twins, Percy, Mrs. Weasley and... Ginny. She looked at him shyly. Their eyes met.

Yes. He would protect Ginny. And he wouldn't fail. He was, after all, a guardian. In his pocket, the Trinity Wand seemed to pulse.

He wouldn't fail. He refused to fail.

After Harry scared the Dursleys into letting him keep his school stuff (Uncle Vernon wanted to lock the lot in Harry's old cupboard), Harry's summer went by without incident. It was obvious from a very early point that a little someone was intercepting his mail, because he received no letters, but of course he'd been expecting that. Except for breakfast, lunch and dinner, he and the Dursleys stayed clear of each other most of the time. It was not until the eve of Harry's twelfth birthday that Uncle Vernon knocked on his door.

"Come in," said Harry, doing his best to sound polite.

Uncle Vernon opened the door but did not come inside. Harry's room was full of evidence that he'd been studying magic (a wand on the table, robes on the chair, and an open spellbook in Harry's lap) and apparently Vernon was afraid to go near any of it.

"Now, listen here, boy. I want your word that you won't come out of this room until the Masons have left."

Right. Uncle Vernon's big deal.

"No problem, but I might be getting a visitor tonight-"

"WHAT!?"

"It can't be avoided. If he doesn't come tonight, it will be soon. And I can't let him know tonight's a bad time. Don't worry, though. He won't be using the front door and his entrance will be quiet enough. Unfortunately, I can't be sure he'll be completely quiet while he's here. I suggest you tell the Masons you own a cat."

Uncle Vernon just stared at him incredulously, then slammed the door shut. Harry heard the lock click.

_Locked in. Wonderful_. He expected to hear the usual voice in his head try to start a conversation on the subject. When he'd realized, earlier in the summer, that he was over-doing the whole inner dialogue thing, he'd stopped bothering to answer the voice that always came from the back of his mind. This time, no voice came. For once, Harry's mind was quiet, and he could keep his focus on the book.

As soon as he heard the Masons arrive, Harry put the book away, made sure the coin he now kept around his neck at all times was perfectly concealed, and waited.

He didn't have to wait long. With a crack like a whip, a small creature, which Harry knew to be a House Elf, appeared in the center of his room.

"Good evening, Dobby," said Harry immediately, once again feeling a bit Dumbledore-ish.

Dobby did not show as much surprise as Harry had expected. Before he could respond, Harry spoke again.

"Please keep your voice low. My uncle is entertaining guests who are not aware of the magical community."

Obediently, the elf responded in a whisper.

"Dobby heard tell that Harry Potter was gifted with the Seer sight. And now Dobby can truly say Harry Potter knows the future."

"Can I have my letters back now?"

Dobby smiled, as if Harry's words amusingly confirmed his previous statement, and shook his head.

"First, Harry Potter must promise not to go back to school."

"I can't do that, Dobby."

Dobby's smile vanished.

"B-but… But Harry Potter must know-"

"Yes, Dobby. I know. I'm perfectly aware of the danger."

"Does Harry Potter not understand?" The volume of Dobby's voice had gotten dangerously high. "Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. Terrible things will happen if he does!"

"Dobby, I have to. Hogwarts is my home, and there are teachers and students there who I consider members of my family. I'm the only one who is fully aware of what's to come, so I'm the only one who can stop it. I will not sit here in safety while my home is invaded and my family killed."

Dobby just stared at him for a long while. Harry heard laughter below, evidently the meeting was going well.

"Don't worry, Dobby. I know how to prevent any of it from happening."

"No!" Dobby suddenly shouted, and Harry jumped as the letters behind Dobby's back burst into flame. "Harry Potter doesn't understand! Harry Potter is too important! Harry Potter must not put himself in danger! Dobby must protect Harry Potter, even from himself!"

There was a loud explosion, and Dobby vanished. The door to Harry's room was blown open and burning letters scattered everywhere.

Everything went deathly quiet. No conversation was drifting up from downstairs. The silence was absolute. The only sound Harry heard came from his own beating heart. Then another beating sound took over; uncle Vernon's footsteps on the stairs.

"Not to worry," he said to the Masons as he ascended the stairs, "it's probably just the- err- cat."

Just as Vernon looked into Harry's room and beheld the demolition and Harry's stunned face, an owl swooped in through the shattered window, dropped a letter in Harry's lap, and flew back out.

"_What the hell's going on here!?_" whispered uncle Vernon.

"My guest lost his temper," replied Harry.

It goes without saying that Harry was locked in his room and told he'd never see Hogwarts again. The good news was that, miraculously, Vernon's deal went through, which meant his temper was not as bad as it otherwise would have been. Of course, that did not stop uncle Vernon from taking away all of Harry's magical stuff once he found out from Harry's letter that he wasn't allowed to use magic outside school. Thankfully, Harry was able to pull a little trick on him. One of the things in Harry's burning mail had been a birthday present from Ron; a trick wand from some joke shop or other. According to the instructions, if you tried to do magic with the wand, it would melt away. But uncle Vernon didn't need to know that. He swapped his wand with the trick wand when Vernon wasn't looking.

As soon as Vernon had locked Harry in tightly, he pulled out his real wand. Of course he wasn't about to cast any spells, the Ministry would know immediately, and he'd already received one warning that evening. No, he had something else in mind.

For the first time since putting it on the previous spring, he pulled out the silver coin with the lightning-shaped mark.

Putting the tip of his wand against the coin's backside, he said: "To Ronald Weasley:"

The coin suddenly became very hot, and he knew that Ron's coin had heated up at the same time.

"Locked in my room, need rescue. Harry. PS: When you're done reading this, touch the coin with your wand and say: Message received."

As he spoke, the words became etched into the coin. He lifted his wand and waited. After a minute or so, the message disappeared and the coin returned to its normal temperature, telling Harry that Ron had gotten the message. Harry stuck his wand in his pocket, lay down on the bed and waited.

After about an hour of listening for any signs of a flying car, he fell asleep.

_He was walking down a school corridor when he encountered a snake that filled the entire corridor. Before he could run away or call for help, the snake stared him in the eye and his entire body froze. The snake slithered up to him, seemingly becoming even bigger on the way. It opened its mouth and swallowed Harry whole._

_Strangely, instead of a snake's digestive system, Harry found himself in a long, narrow, and unfamiliar passage. At the end of the chamber lay the body of a boy. Harry ran towards him, but when he reached his destination, he saw that the boy was… Harry._

_And then the Harry that lay on the floor opened his eyes. Instead of seeing himself where he remembered standing half a moment ago, Harry saw a beautiful, strange creature hovering over him. It looked like a woman, but it seemed to be made of light, and on top of its head, where hair should have been, burned a towering red flame. The creature's presence brought a feeling of peace to Harry, but then something else entered his field of vision. Another creature was approaching, this time shaped like a man but made of black fire and surrounded by darkness. Crimson-red gemstones shone ominously from where the creature's eyes should have been. The light moved between the darkness and Harry, and cried out in a familiar voice. _

_No..._

_A snake slithered up from the floor onto the black flame and wove around the man's arm, which was pointed at the light._

_No._

_An evil, familiar laugh emanated from the darkness, and the light spoke._

"_Please, not Harry! Anything but Harry! Take me, kill me instead!"_

_No!_

"_Avada Kedavra."_

_A burst of green flame emanated from the darkness and engulfed the light._

"NO!"

Harry awoke with a start. It took him a few moments to realize it had been a dream and that he was still in his bed at number four, Privet Drive. He looked at his alarm clock, which told him it was half past nine in the morning. Just as he was wiping the sweat from his brow, he heard the doorbell ringing downstairs.

"Who in the blazes-" began uncle Vernon somewhere in the house.

Harry heard the front door open.

"Mr. Dursley, I presume," said an unfamiliar man's voice. "I'm here for Harry."

"What… There's nobody here by that name!"

"Don't lie to me, sir. I know you've got him locked in his room."

"How… He couldn't have sent for you! I just had bars put on his window! He can't send that damn bird with his mail anywhere! How do you-"

"That doesn't matter. Where is he?"

Silence.

"Bars on his window, you say?"

Harry next heard the man's voice through the window.

"Harry! Are you in there?"

He jumped to the window and opened it as much as was possible with the bars there.

"Yes! In here!"

"Hang on, I'm coming up!"

Harry heard someone rushing up the stairs. Then the lock on his door clicked and a red-haired man opened the door.

"Harry, my name's Arthur Weasley."

Harry smiled. "Ron's dad, right?"

"That's right. Now let's get your stuff ready and get out of here."

As they fetched Harry's things in the cupboard beneath the stairs, Harry could tell Mr. Weasley was having a really hard time resisting the urge to ask about everything from the telephone to the television, but he kept his cool.

Once everything was neatly packed into Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia, they began the drive to the Burrow. After a few minutes of silence, Mr. Weasley was unable to hold in his enthusiasm any longer.

"So, Harry, you've lived with Muggles all your life. Can you explain to me how a phellytone works?"

And for the rest of the drive, Harry was bombarded with questions about the Muggle world.

It was not until they entered the driveway of a large, rickety house that Mr. Weasley finally shut up. Harry also became very quiet. As awed as he was to actually be at THE Burrow, as happy as he was to be rid of the Dursleys for the rest of the year, and as glad as he was that he was about to meet his friend Ron, none of those were his dominating emotion. True, this building housed his friend Ron, but it also held Ginny, and Harry was incredibly nervous about meeting her again.

He didn't understand. Why did he feel this way? He hadn't been like this when they met the first time.

"Welcome to the Burrow, Harry."

Harry nervously followed Mr. Weasley into the house, but before he even got the chance to look around, he was swept into a tight hug by Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, Harry!" she cried. "We were so worried!"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley," he managed to mumble past her shoulder.

"Come in, dear, please."

Harry followed her further into the house as Ron and the twins came running downstairs.

"Harry!" yelled Ron.

"Alright, Harry?" asked the twins together.

"Alright," replied Harry.

It was then that a small, timid someone slowly descended the stairs, and Harry became blind to all else. Their eyes met and both their faces turned crimson. Harry managed a tiny smile.

"Er- Hi, Ginny."

"H-hi, H-Harry," she was able to stutter back.

This did not go unnoticed. As soon as Harry was able to break eye contact with Ginny, he saw smirks covering the twins' faces and was sure they were about to say something "hilarious" about him and Ginny. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to have noticed anything, but Ron had. Harry half-expected him to assault him and try to twist his head off. Ginny seemed to have the same concerns. They both looked at Ron, and Harry was surprised to see that he seemed… _glad_. Ron wasn't the least bit angry, he was genuinely _glad_. _Relieved_, even.

Before Harry had time to wonder at the reasons behind this odd un-Ronish behavior, he and Ginny were bombarded by the twins' musings. As the insults escalated, Ginny turned to the twins, all shyness forgotten.

"Shut UP, you pair of-" and, in a towering rage that made her seem like a mixture of Ron, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, she let loose a string of insults the likes of which Harry had never even imagined. Her imagery was incredibly inventive and included a dung heap, a pair of oxen and the backside of a chicken. Don't ask.

By the time her tirade neared its end, the twins were practically cowering before her.

"Ginny!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, which finally shut Ginny up. "I never want to hear such foul language in my house again, understand?"

"Yes, mum."

As soon as Mrs. Weasley turned her back, Harry raised an eyebrow at Ginny, and she smiled broadly at him. Mrs. Weasley had just forbidden Ginny to use foul language, but only _in this house_. If Ginny ever chose to talk like that again, all she'd have to do was get out of the house, and Mrs. Weasley would not have any real grounds for punishing her.

Harry divided his time at the Burrow between Ron and Ginny, and Ginny got a significantly greater allotment of Harry's time than Ron. Ron didn't seem to mind, but Harry saw him make a mention of it in a letter he wrote to Hermione. Ginny seemed ecstatic to spend so much time with Harry, and even though she still tended to be shy around him, they always had a great time.

It was a few days later at breakfast that Harry's mood turned foul for the first time since entering the Burrow. Even the sight of Scabbers hadn't invoked any anger in him, but this…

The Weasleys were _still_ discussing the Dursleys' treatment of him when Mrs. Weasley said:

"I mean, when Ron told us about the coin you gave him-"

"What?" said Harry sharply and turned to Ron. "You _told_ them!?"

The Weasleys seemed stunned at Harry's reaction.

"Ron! What did I tell you?" Harry was absolutely _furious_. "_What did I tell you!?_"

"I- I didn't mean to!" replied Ron, apparently a little scared of Harry. Not that anyone could blame him.

"The twins were in the room with me when the coin got all burning hot, so I had to take it out, and they saw the writing appear on the coin!"

Harry noticed Ginny, who had just sat down on Ron's other side, paying special attention. She clearly hadn't known about any of this.

"And then when I told mum and dad that you needed rescuing, they didn't believe me when I said you'd sent me a letter, because they'd have noticed if an owl came here, and, well-"

"Who else knows about this?" asked Harry.

"Nobody. Just Fred, George, Mum and Dad," replied Ron.

"And Ginny," added Harry.

"Ginny?" said Ron, confused, and turned around.

"Oh, err- Ginny! I, uh…"

"It's okay," said Harry as he began to calm down. "As long as nobody else knows. Can you all promise to keep this quiet?"

"We promise, Harry," said Ginny, very serious.

"Keep what quiet?" asked Percy as he entered the kitchen.

"Nothing," mumbled Harry and returned to eating his breakfast. The others mimicked him awkwardly.

"Oh, come now, Harry. You can tell _me_. I'm a _prefect_."

Harry could tell he wasn't going to let this go easily. He considered telling him, but knowing Percy would put the ministry before his family, he decided it wasn't worth the risk. He'd have to get Percy's mind occupied with something else.

"So how's Penelope?"

For the first time ever, Harry saw Percy blush.

"How do you- I mean, what are you talking about, Harry?"

"Penelope. Your girlfriend. How is she?"

Percy just stared at him, his face the same color as his hair. Harry smirked and tapped the side of his head.

"I'm a seer, remember?"

"Girlfriend?" asked Fred, and Harry saw he and George were about to give Percy the royal treatment. Not exactly what he'd intended. Harry turned to the twins.

"Something wrong with that?"

Apparently, the twins had not been expecting Harry to defend Percy. They were taken aback and did not answer.

Harry glanced at Ginny. "Ginny and I are practically dating. Got anything to say about that?" Harry saw Ginny blush and couldn't help doing the same.

Everything went quiet. It was an awkward silence. Harry realized, too late, that perhaps he shouldn't have made that revelation with Ginny's parents in the room. She wasn't even eleven yet. How would her parents feel about her dating at that age? But Mr. and Mrs. Weasley just smiled, looked at Harry and Ginny and then at each other, and continued eating.

The twins, however, were not so gentle.

"Why Harry," George began, "we do indeed."

As it turned out, they had a great many things to say about their sister dating Harry Potter. After a while, Harry saw that Ginny was about to explode with fury again. Their eyes met, and he shook his head ever so slightly. The tiny action seemed to have a calming effect on her, and she held her tongue. Harry got up and went to the clothing rack. Everyone stared after him, surprised. He returned with two pairs of earmuffs and slipped one of them on Ginny. He returned to his seat and looked at the twins.

"Just let me know when you're done."

He put on the earmuffs and the world became quiet once more. The twins were dumbstruck and Ron couldn't stop laughing. Harry looked at Ginny. She was no longer blushing, but grinned widely at him. He felt he could look at her forever; her smile was probably the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He smiled too, and winked at her.

Then the clouds in the sky shifted and a ray of light shone in through the window. Right onto Ginny. Covered in sunlight, Ginny literally seemed to shine, and her hair looked like it was made of fire, reminding him of-

Harry's smile vanished. Ginny reminded him of the fiery female creature from his dream. A creature that had died protecting him from the darkness.

Harry looked away, but not before seeing Ginny's disappointment and confusion at his reaction.

Over the next few days, whenever Ginny was in the same room as Harry, he couldn't help but think of his dream and as a result, he couldn't bring himself to smile, or even look at her. This was made even worse by the fact that when he did glimpse her face, he saw the same disappointment and confusion as she had shown the first time, only it was getting worse all the time. He was _hurting_ her by behaving like this, and he hated himself for it. However, all this self-hatred did was make him avoid her so she wouldn't have to watch him like this.

Harry barely slept during this time, and when he did, he was beset by nightmares where the shining fire-creature in his previous dream was replaced with Ginny.

It was on the evening before their trip to Diagon Alley that he was finally confronted about his behavior. Not by Ginny, though. By Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry, I need a word."

Harry and Ron had been about to go to Ron's room to sleep. They both turned and saw Mrs. Weasley's fierce expression. Ron leaned towards Harry and stage-whispered:

"Wow. What did you do?"

Harry didn't answer. He sincerely hoped she was just going to scold him for not helping out that day (he'd been down by the nearest river, just staying away from the house and from Ginny).

"Ron, bed."

Ron turned to Harry and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Good luck, mate. Tell me about it after, alright?"

"If I survive," replied Harry.

"NOW!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, and Ron ran up the stairs. This left Harry and Mrs. Weasley alone in the room.

"Harry, I'm just going to get straight to the point. Why are you doing this to Ginny?"

_Here we go,_ thought Harry.

_It's not like you don't deserve it._

_I know._

"I-" he began, but didn't know how to continue. He'd been hoping to avoid this, hoping to shake free of these feelings so he could start being with Ginny again without causing her pain. This wasn't fair to Ginny and he knew it.

"Why did you give her hope, and then take it away?"

Harry knew himself to be guilty. There could be no greater crime than giving someone hope and then taking it away when they least expect it.

"You tell everyone you two are practically dating, and then you spend the rest of your time avoiding her. What are you running from?"

Silence. She expected an answer this time, and Harry knew she would neither speak nor let him leave until she got it.

"She-" he faltered, then started again. "Do you know what my first memory is? My mother's screams. My mother standing over me, throwing herself in harm's way to protect me, begging, _pleading_ with Voldemort not to kill me, to kill her instead."

Her countenance softened, but not by much.

"I thought you didn't remember anything except the green light from his spell."

"I didn't, but I do now."

"Not to be mean, Harry, but what does that have to do with Ginny?"

"I've got pictures of my parents, Molly. Hagrid gave me an album full of them last spring. My mother had a beautiful face and long, flaming-red hair."

Mrs. Weasley was cut short. Her anger seemed to dissolve completely.

"Oh."

"Ginny reminds me of her, and when I think about that, well…"

"Harry…"

Harry's head snapped up. That had not been Mrs. Weasley's voice. He turned around and saw Ginny standing in the doorway, looking at him with tears in her eyes. Suddenly, she ran at him and flung her arms around him. And it felt so natural, so _right_. He hugged her back and his fears seemed to melt away.

_What have I been so scared of? It was just a dream, and it wasn't even about Ginny._

When they finally broke apart, he found he had absolutely no trouble smiling at her.

"Sorry, I just… I've been an idiot."

"Yeah, you have," she replied, but she was smiling.

"Alright, you two, break it up," said Mrs. Weasley, who was also smiling now. They both turned to her.

"Harry," she said, "can I trust you won't treat Ginny like that in the future?"

He looked at Ginny, who smiled at him, half-questioningly. He put his hand in hers.

"As long as she keeps reminding me why I shouldn't," he said, and smiled.

"Alright," said Mrs. Weasley, "in that case, off to bed, both of you."

When Harry left Ginny at her room, a question occurred to him.

"Ginny? Didn't you go upstairs before Ron? What were you doing downstairs?"

"Oh, just… gathering information," she replied and winked at him before closing the door and leaving him alone in the hall.

"Gathering information?" Harry whispered to himself and smiled. "Ginny Weasley, you mischievous little vixen."

The next day, they all woke up fairly early. After getting dressed and eating breakfast, they all gathered around the fireplace and, one by one, left the Burrow via the Flew Network.

When Harry arrived, right after Ron, at the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron, he saw that Ron was glancing around the place, as if looking for someone.

"Where _is_ she?"

"Who?" asked Harry.

Ron looked at him like he wanted to ask 'are you stupid?' It took Harry a few seconds to realize who Ron was talking about.

"Oh, right. Hermione."

"She said she'd wait for us here."

Ron had been in nearly constant contact with Hermione via owl mail for most of Harry's time at the Burrow, and probably even before that. Harry wondered why this was. Surely, the two weren't dating, were they? All things considered, it seemed rather unlikely, but then Harry and Ginny were almost dating (the only reason Harry did not consider them to be fully dating was because they hadn't actually gone on a date yet).

They waited by the fireplace for twenty minutes, but Hermione did not show up.

"I'm sorry, Ron," said Mrs. Weasley and looked at her watch. "We don't have time to wait here all day. Maybe we'll run into Hermione later."

Ron sighed in defeat and followed them glumly out into Diagon Alley. Once they had retrieved some of their gold from Gringotts, the group split up. Ron apparently saw someone he recognized and took off without a word. Percy mumbled something about a new quill and wandered off, and the twins met with their friend Lee Jordan.

"We'll all meet by Flourish and Blotts in one hour!" shouted Mrs. Weasley to ensure everyone heard. "Harry, aren't you going after Ron?"

"Actually, Molly, I wondered if I could borrow Ginny for a while?"

"Borrow me?" asked Ginny, and her face went a little red. Harry looked at her.

"Your birthday's coming up, right? I wanted to get you something."

"Harry," said Mr. Weasley, "shouldn't birthday presents be a secret until the actual birthday?"

"Not the kind of gift I had in mind. I can't get it without Ginny there."

Mrs. Weasley looked at him and Harry couldn't understand the serious look on her face.

"It had better not be lingerie."

Harry and Ginny's faces became tomato red.

"N-no! Of course not!"

"Well, I'm coming with you, just in case."

"Muuum!" complained Ginny. "Harry's not like that!"

Mrs. Weasley seemed to be considering whether or not to allow this, when her husband spoke up.

"Molly, I think Harry's proven himself worthy of our trust. He's quite mature for his age."

Mrs. Weasley seemed to finally relent.

"That's exactly what worries me, to be honest, but alright."

"Thanks, mum!" said Ginny before rushing from her to Harry.

"We'll meet you at Flourish and Blotts, and then you can get the rest of Ginny's stuff," said Harry before turning away and walking up the street hand-in-hand with Ginny.

He saw surprise fill Ginny's face when he pulled her into a narrow and shabby shop.

"Ollivander's? What are we doing here?"

Harry smiled at her.

"Can't have my girlfriend running around with a second-hand wand, can I?"

She half-smiled back.

"Good day," said Mr. Ollivander suddenly, right beside them. They both jumped. Neither of them had noticed him until then.

Harry turned to him, bowed, and returned his greeting.

"Mr. Potter, how unexpected. There's nothing wrong with the Trinity Wand, I hope?"

Ginny looked at Harry, surprised.

"Oh, no sir. My wand's in perfect condition. I actually came to get a wand for Ginny. Her birthday's coming up, you see."

"Ah. Ginevra Weasley. Good to finally meet you."

And he went on to give her basically the same treatment as Harry had gotten the year before, describing the attributes of her parents' wands as he looked through the shelves for wands for Ginny to try.

Meanwhile, Ginny whispered to Harry; "Trinity Wand?"

Harry realized he hadn't told her about his wand. In fact, he hadn't told _anyone_.

"I'll tell you later," he whispered back, as Ollivander arrived with the first wand.

"Here we are. Yew and phoenix feather. Nine inches, springy. Just give it a wave."

Ginny tried, but nothing happened. Ollivander got another wand and Ginny tried again. Still nothing. Harry sat down in the chair Hagrid had nearly broken the year before and settled in for a long wait.

About nine wands later, Ollivander seemed to hesitate.

"I wonder…"

He gave Harry an odd look and then turned to the shelves and pulled out a wand like all the others, except Harry _recognized_ it. He clearly recalled trying that wand a year ago, when he was last in this shop.

"Is that-" he began, but something about Ollivander's countenance stopped him from completing the question.

Ollivander handed the wand to Ginny without a word, and a strange aura came over her. She raised her hand and brought the wand swooshing down. Red and gold sparks shot out of the end of it. Ginny smiled with success and looked at Harry, but his surprised and thoughtful expression seemed to douse her joy.

Ollivander took the wand back and began packing it in, mumbling to himself; "Curious… Very curious."

_'What does this mean?'_ wondered Harry to himself. Just to clarify, he asked Ollivander: "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple?"

"Indeed," replied Ollivander.

"Curious," agreed Harry.

"What?" asked Ginny, confused. It was Harry who replied.

"It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in that wand gave only one other feather."

Ginny swallowed. She could tell this was something significant.

"It is curious that you are destined for that wand," Harry continued and lifted the hair from his forehead, "when it's brother gave me this scar."

**Author's Notes:**

**I HAVE CHANGED THE SIZE AND WOOD OF THE TRINITY WAND - SEE "CHAPTER 3 - THE WAND CHOOSES THE WIZARD" FOR DETAILS.**

Long time no see- er… write. Whatever.

I'm going to start by letting you all know that since I'm now a university student, I have less time for this story now than in the past. Chapters may therefore be further apart than usual.

Next, I'd like to congratulate myself. Yes, you read right. I'm rather proud of myself for turning what I had expected to become a short, dull chapter into an exciting read that's about twice the intended length. Go me! Hehe.

And third, I'd like to apologize to thejealousone for 'stealing' a little something from his story (yes, she WAS eavesdropping). I hope you won't hold it against me, it's just that when I read your story the first time, I liked it so much that I simply accepted much of it as fact – a natural part of the Harry Potter universe, and Ginny being an eavesdropper was one of them.

Now, let's tackle the actual issues of this chapter:

My biggest concern about this chapter now is the status of Harry's relationship with Ginny. I know they're rather young, but it's not like they're sneaking into each other's bedrooms at night or snogging the day away. I need their relationship to be at a certain stage later in the story when I drop a certain bomb in Harry's lap. That's why I'm sort of rushing things. Believe me, there are going to be complications.

And I know Molly is rather strict with Harry here, but I thought the situation(s) called for it. Plus, I just couldn't resist the lingerie thing.

Like I said at the top, this chapter drew inspiration from the sixth Harry Potter film, and this chapter, more than the previous ones, was inspired by "In the Words of Ginevra Molly Potter". Also, this chapter was pretty much _**SAVED**_ by the wonderful music of Kate Covington. The feelings I experience when I listen to her songs were the inspiration for all the wonderful Ginny scenes in this chapter (except the last one (with Ollivander), which I had been planning for a while).

Okay, I'm just going to leave it here. Don't forget to comment and ask any questions you want, and I'll try to answer everything. If you hate something about this chapter, please help me understand why. Explain your case as well as you can and I'll either make changes or at least explain why I disagree. Understand that certain things in this chapter are there for a reason.

Don't forget to check out the poll – this time, the question is; What ELSE can Harry's coins do? (It should be noted that these polls are just for fun, they don't actually affect the story in any way – I already know the correct answer to each one when I write it).

Later.


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